here i am
by MatveyJeevas
Summary: Jack Frost spent three hundred years having fun in the wind before becoming a Guardian, but what about his days of despair and the fact that he spent all his life unloved? Rated T for some swearing, and insurance for the future. (
1. Jack Frost

**A/N: summary: Jack Frost spent three hundred years having fun in the wind before becoming a Guardian, but what about his days of despair and the fact that he spent all his life unloved?**

Slowly, as if he was trying to dodge the inevitable, a young boy drifted down to his cave, leaving intricate patterns of frost in his wake, not wanting to believe this was his life. He landed without any sort of sound, and the ringing silence of this ice cave sent shivers down his spine. The wall held thirteen tally marks carved into the ice. It had been thirteen days, and still, no one had so much as looked at him.

"What am I? Who am I?" he murmured, holding his sole possession, a staff, upright. It crackled at his touch. "Can't I at least get a name?"

There was a whisper in his diligently silent cave. It seemed to seep through the walls, and chime from the snowflakes. "_Jack Frost,_" it said, clear as a bell,_ "Jack Frost is your name._"

The boy froze. Had he heard correctly? "Jack Frost?" he repeated. "What- what am I here for? Why can I control the ice? What's my purpose?"

He was answered by a familiar silence.

"Wait," he called out. "Please! Just tell me! _Please_!"

No reply. His shout echoed into the darkness and eventually faded away.

"Please!" he yelled. "_Tell me_! Why can't people see me?" He waited. "Please! Please..."

Jack Frost crumpled to the ground in a miserable heap. He dropped his staff and it clattered next to him. He could only hear his own heart, only see his own breath. He hugged himself and shook his head.

"_Please_," he said again.

"_Jack Frost..."_

Jack could not hear this, but rather felt it, just as everyone did- the entire world, people, animals, plants, and the ice. It spread through the very surface of the Earth, sang its way across the continents and into the depths of the oceans. Even in the dead of summer it nipped at people's noses and caused several shudders. Guardians were startled but tried to brush it off._ Jack Frost_._ Let that name be known, for it is he who shall bring mischief and laughter. Be warned_.

Jack sat up and readied his ears for his name again, for a message, anything. He was disappointed to wait, and wait, and wait. The night sounds began with owls hooting and foxes scampering over the frozen lake. He knew the snow was falling lightly, and the exact speed. When he closed his eyes Jack could see each snowflake's beautiful uniqueness, and it comforted him in this time of need. He shook his head and lay down, pulling together some snow for a soft pillow. It was going to be a long night.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"I 'ave called you all here today to discuss matter of great import. The people of the vorld, as vell as us, have heard a name that sent shiver down the spine."

"Yes! It was in seventeen _hundred_ of my teeth!" said the Tooth Fairy, darting around to show the whisper of the child's tooth she held.

The Sandman spun around in the air and created vivid images of uneasy chills in his dream, and the Easter Bunny simply tapped his foot and nodded.

Santa Claus nodded and sat down in a rather large and comfortable red chair. "Ve need to find out vhy. Who is this person? Vhy have ve heard his name?"

"Why don't we just ask the Man in the Moon?" said Bunnymund impatiently. He took a small step forward and addressed all of the Guardians. "We can always get answers the easy way. I don't fancy searchin' the entire globe for some bloke called _Jack Frost_."

A cold air hung in the room. The Guardians tensed, but no one appeared. There was an unspoken agreement to not say the name again. Everyone was silent for a moment.

North cleared his throat. "The Man in the Moon has been unresponsive to me," he said. "I don't tink he vill be of wery much 'elp.

"All of us together might do the trick," said Tooth hopefully. "Maybe he was waiting for all the Guardians. Can't we at least give it a try?"

The others nodded in agreement and all stood up to gather in a circle. After trying to summon their deity, they realized the answer would not come so easily.

Someone had to find Jack Frost. The month was November and Christmas readily approached. Both the Tooth Fairy and Sandman were busy at all hours. The duty was left to the Easter Bunny, who didn't have to worry about Easter for another three or four months. His ears fell back in agitation.

"Come on now, mates! Why have you got to pick on the rabbit! Crikey. Right bunch of asses."

He realized that it was the only fair choice, but was still upset. The Guardians all bid each other goodbye and left Nicholas to continue preparing for Christmas by creating warm meals that most children were wishing for at every waking moment. The Easter Bunny tapped his foot again and left a small patch of flowers where he disappeared.


	2. Ghost

End of chapter 1:

"_Come on now, mates! Why have you got to pick on the rabbit! Crikey. Right bunch of asses."_

_He realized that it was the only fair choice, but was still upset. The Guardians all bid each other goodbye and left Nicholas to continue preparing for Christmas by creating warm meals that most children were wishing for at every waking moment. The Easter Bunny tapped his foot again and left a small patch of flowers where he disappeared._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Jack awoke feeling colder than usual, which to him was rather nice, because the winter was his time to shine. He stretched his thin arms and yawned, grinning at the puff of vapor that escaped his mouth. To stand, he took hold of his staff and floated up a few feet, trying to loosen himself from having slept on the hard ice.

He looked at his wall of thirteen tally marks and frowned at it. His least favorite thing to do was add another day, but this was only the beginning. After scratching the wall again, he carved his own name, _Jack Frost_, into the ice for fear that he might forget it like he had so many other things.

"Did I forget?" he murmured to himself. No one else was around to hear, let alone listen or answer. He couldn't get a soul to notice him. "Or is there nothing to remember?"

Jack walked dejectedly through the cave until his bare feet felt fresh snow. He smiled and took in the crisp air; filling his lungs with something he would soon dub _Winter's Bakery_. It was a nice morning, not a cloud in the sky, and when Jack walked into town he saw everyone was rather festive and kind.

"Hello," someone said, and Jack was startled. He turned around and smiled, said "hello," back, until he realized that their eyes weren't quite focused on his. They blurred past him like a dream. Jack took a step back and walked away, upset despite everyone's outward cheer.

"Hello?" he called out. "My name is Jack Frost. I haven't been able to tell you before today. Oh, you want to know why? Good question." Jack laughed, as if he were having light conversation with someone. "Well, it's because the, uh, the Moon told me, I think. Or it was the wind. I don't know. It... it sounds crazy, huh? I know. Please- wait!"

He'd been talking in front of a little girl, but she walked away just as he was starting to like her. She couldn't see him. Jack sighed. He lifted himself off of the ground and flew up to a rooftop. Gently, he plucked a large icicle and stared into his distorted image.

"I can see me," he told himself. "Can you see you?"

The face in the ice merely mirrored his movements and waited for an answer alongside its owner. Jack tossed the icicle down in his disappointment. Someone screamed, and he nearly fell off of the roof.

"Ow!" said a whimpering voice. It began to cry.

"It came out of nowhere!" someone shouted. "How could it have fallen so far from the roof?"

Jack literally ran _through_ the crowd to see up close what he'd done. "Bad spirits," someone else responded as many other people surrounded the girl who'd been hit by the icicle.

"Did anyone else hear the name Jack Frost last night?" asked an old woman, hobbling forward to inspect the injured and whimpering child. It was the same girl that Jack had been talking with- or rather, _to_- earlier.

"I did," chorused the villagers. They were all surprised at each other. There was an eerie pause.

"I thought it was the wind playing tricks on my old ears," said the lady. Her voice was slow like slush. "But no. I believe that Jack Frost is malevolent spirit come to exact revenge!"

"_What_?" Jack said. He was completely appalled by the idea. Where had she heard that? Jack's mind raced to remember everything from the past two weeks. He'd never done something like this before. And now, right after there was a clear "warning" from the Moon, people were suspicious and jumped to conclusions.

"Revenge?" someone shouted. "For what? Our hard work and prayers are as prevalent as ever. Why, we've only just harvested the autumn crops! What do you mean, _revenge_?"

"Yeah," another agreed. There was a long stretch of silence while the old woman showed the child that she could break the icicle, and that it was nothing to fear.

"You see? That's better, dear." She cleared her throat. "Is anyone open to believe something else? We've gotten a clear sign. With taxes and such a cold winter, we can't take the chances of a demon."

"Demon!" Jack exclaimed. "What do you mean, demon—?"

"Now, then. This Jack Frost." The villagers clustered together to form a misshapen circle. The old woman continued, "How could we repel it?"

"We know not what it dislikes," a young woman said. "There's no way to repel a spirit that takes pleasure in wreaking havoc."

"No!" Jack shouted. "I'm not- I'm not _evil_! I didn't mean to hurt her!" He raised his arms and pointed to the girl. She was okay, but shivering and had a bruise on her side. "It's not like I was _aiming_!" he cried desperately.

"What if it's not Jack Frost? What if that was just a child's prank?"

She looked at the inquisitive man with sadness in her eyes. "I can only assume, George. But…" she looked around at the other villagers and stepped closer to whisper in his ear. Jack tried to listen but could only hear "Overland" and something about a ghost.

"How can we banish it?" he asked quietly, and bent down to lift the child and cradle her.

"Let's wait. See what else it can do," the old woman answered. "For now… Anita is our responsibility."

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the crowd as they dispersed, and the young man carried Anita to her home.

The old woman looked to the cloudless sky and gave it a scowl. "Listen well, Jack Frost," she said, and Jack flinched. He shouted at her to no avail. "You are no friend of this village. Leave while you have the chance, and let my people walk in peace! You were brave in the past but now plague us."

"I'm not evil!" Jack repeated, running up to her and striking his hands through her face. "I'm not- I- I'm not! I'm _not_!"

Jack's hands going through her head made for a nasty chill. She felt her nose going numb and lifted the collar of her jacket. "Don't attack me!" she growled. "Leave."

Jack could hear his heart _thump-thump-thumping_. It was useless. She couldn't see him. "I'm not evil!" he screamed into her ear. It only sent a small gust of cool air through her brain. The old woman walked away. "Yeah, you walk away! You know that I win! I'm not a _malevolent spirit_! I'm not here to_ exact revenge_! Why can't you listen to the others?"

He yelled at the people until he could yell no more. They wouldn't listen, couldn't listen. Jack stood completely still, felt uncomfortably hot, he couldn't think straight. He kicked at the snow and punched a tree until all the snow rested at his feet and his knuckles were as red as a cherry.

Feeling hopeless and swallowed by a bad nightmare, Jack bent down and made a snowball. It was small, harmless. He threw it at a house. No one noticed. He threw another snowball, this one bigger and heavier, at a door. Still ignored. Jack spent several minutes creating a pile of snowballs until he ran out of clay. With the rest of his energy Jack threw each snowball aimlessly, tossed them here, there, everywhere.

"I'm not evil!" he shouted, and ten snowballs rammed into a horse-drawn carriage. "I'm not!" he yelled, and ten more snowballs smacked into people walking by. Jack threw them until he fell down and could hardly feel anything but numbness. In his wake dozens of people were battered by the ice. He took no notice and flew up and away, clutching his staff, his only possession, running back home feeling too warm and too upset.

The people were set on getting rid of this Jack Frost.

**A/N: If you have any ideas or suggestions to make about what Jack would do for 300 years, I'd love to write in some filler chapters. Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated.**


	3. Frost Repellant

End of chapter 2:

"_I'm not evil!" he shouted, and ten snowballs rammed into a horse-drawn carriage. "I'm not!" he yelled, and ten more snowballs smacked into people walking by. Jack threw them until he fell down and could hardly feel anything but numbness. In his wake dozens of people were battered by the ice. He took no notice and flew up and away, clutching his staff, his only possession, running back home feeling too warm and too upset._

_The people were set on getting rid of this Jack Frost._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

It was easy enough after he'd heard the name spoken several times in a condensed area on the map. Bunnymund rubbed his paws together and grinned.

"Alrighty, Jack Frost," he said, "get ready for a surprise..." He felt strange to be hunt_ing_ rather than hunt_ed_- he was a rabbit, after all. But the trail was so fresh that Bunnymund turned down a pile of carrots in order to find Jack Frost. There was no time to lose.

He'd only been searching for a week, and got closer each day. Jack Frost had to be out there, and where Bunnymund was headed was the most likely place. It was a small village in North America called Burgess.

The town was normal enough. He hid in shadows and watched from corners to see anything strange, anything at all. But no one was talking about Jack Frost, and nothing seemed unusual. The Easter Bunny frowned, and hopped away to look for more evidence. He felt excited. Finding Jack Frost would be great. The other Guardians would be pleased with all that searching- North might even admit to Easter being better than Christmas, however both of which, at the time, were equally celebrated.

"Where are you," Bunnymund breathed, creeping around on the ice with his boomerang ready for battle. "Come out come out, wherever you are... Jack Frost..."

He came across a little path in the snow, big enough only for one person. It stopped dead in the center of the frozen lake, but Bunnymund was set on the direction it led to. He hopped over piles and ran through mounds. It was cold and a little windy but he was determined.

"Jack Frost!" called Bunnymund. "Jack Frost, come 'ere and face me like a man!"

Over the past week, the rabbit had tried to imagine what Jack Frost looked like. He imagined a tall and brooding figure, with sharp features and a scar across one eye. Jack Frost needed to have hands carved from ice and hair made of snow. The Guardians had figured he was a winter creature, and judging by the uncomfortable chills at the mention of his name, they assumed he was not a nice guy. Bunnymund had to get rid of him before the children of the world were threatened by blizzards and hypothermia.

He came across a cave and grinned. This must be where the evil brute lived. Caves were the perfect place to concoct evil plans. Bunnymund shuddered when he thought of Pitch Black- they _needed_ to prevent those sorts of things from happening again.

Bunnymund had light footsteps. He was a rabbit, after all. The snow did not crunch under his feet; it merely sank, quietly as if he were kneading a ball of dough. He entered the cave and warmed up by jumping up to the ceiling a few times; that got his blood running. The depths of the cave were lighted by the shimmering ice and sun. He ventured in.

"Jack Frost?" he hummed. "Are you there?"

Closer, closer- damn! There was nothing. He saw an empty nest of snow in the middle of the floor that had been piled and slept on. Bunnymund refused to give up. He scanned the distorted room and— aha. On the wall, something was spelled out. He jumped closer.

JACK FROST

Jack Frost! _Ace_! Bunnymund brushed his paw over the carved markings and sniffed them. Fresh. Jack Frost was here last night. Would he come again tonight? The rabbit tapped his feet on the icy ground and sat, ready to wait it out all day.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Laughter filled the air, bubbling into the snowflakes to spread joy and cheer throughout the village. Children caught snowflakes on their noses and couldn't help but laugh, while adults smiled and passed by. Christmas was on its way, and although the people of Burgess weren't decorating trees or hanging up wreaths, they prepared gifts for one another and baked cakes that were to die for.

Jack crossed his legs in the air and scanned the streets. He saw a boy playing with sticks and floated down to sit across from him.

"Hello," said Jack cheerfully. "What are you doing?" He paused. "My name's Jack Frost. Everyone here thinks I'm some evil... _spirit_. But truth is, I don't know. What do you think?"

The boy looked up from his game. His eyes bled right through Jack, but he still felt acknowledged. It only lasted half a second.

"I'm Jack Frost, and I'm not evil. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm twenty-eight days old. What d'you expect?"

"Mom?" called the boy. "Can I have the herbs? I think Jack Frost is nearby. I don't want to die!"

Jack bit his lip and shook his head at the child. The misconceptions had spread through the village quicker than poisonous gas. "I'm not going to kill you!" he said indignantly. "I just toldja I'm not evil!"

A woman bent down next to Jack and the boy to pour out a small bag of herbs. She sowed them into the snow like seeds in soil, and Jack laughed because that wouldn't keep _him_ away. A couple of plants? How could that repel something?

"I wish he'd just go to a different village," she muttered. "That would be so much easier..."

Jack's ears perked up. "A different village?" he asked. He thought this was the only town in the world. "There are more people? Will they be able to see me?"

The teenager grabbed his staff and jumped twenty feet into the air- free as the wind, to do as he pleased. "There are more people!" he shouted into the sky, hoping the Moon would hear. "Someone out there _will_ see me! I _know_ it!"

He soared past the houses and over his own cave without looking back, and picked up speed with the wind. He didn't have to worry about running into anything- he flew right through birds and trees and people, laughing as the gusts of cold and wind left everything in a daze.

And so, as Jack Frost flew away from Burgess and away from his cave, he upset a certain large rabbit who would be waiting in the cold for him all night long.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A/N: Chapters will be posted every Wednesday and Sunday, respectively. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, "ace" is Australian slang meaning "awesome" or "great."

Thanks to my betas! xXIchigoAngelXx and The14thMelody.

Feel free to contact me with any questions or comments. Thanks for reading!


	4. Spiral to the Truth

End of chapter 3:

_He soared past the houses and over his own cave without looking back, and picked up speed with the wind. He didn't have to worry about running into anything- he flew right through birds and trees and people, laughing as the gusts of cold and wind left everything in a daze._

_And so, as Jack Frost flew away from Burgess and away from his cave, he upset a certain large rabbit who would be waiting in the cold for him all night long._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

From under a thick blanket in the North Pole, Bunnymund stared up at Nicholas with a carrot in his hand and wide eyes, looking more than a little peeved. They were sitting at a table full of snacks, discussing the important matter of Jack Frost.

"He evaded me," said the rabbit. "He knew I was there, so he didn't come back to his cave."

North chewed anxiously on a cookie doused in milk. "Impossible."

Bunnymund shook his head. "No, he definitely was there yesterday morning. But he didn't come back."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I could smell his scent," he answered.

"Vas it human?"

"I haven't ever smelt anything like it, North."

The old man took in a deep breath and put down the cookie, rubbing his forehead in confusion. "I do not understand," he mumbled. "You are vun 'undred percent sure?"

"Absolutely."

Bunnymund took no pleasure in the stress it caused, but he couldn't help but smile at the way North was worrying. Their rivalry was strong, but their friendship was, if possible, stronger. He stared at North for a long time, neither one sure of what to do next. If Jack Frost was really an evil presence, the Guardians were the only ones who could stop him before Christmas.

"Perhaps the Tooth Fairy could-"

"I do not think necessary," said North. "You vill find him, Bunny. You vill?"

"But Toothiana- she's got a million little... minions! You've got to give me a break, mate, I've been searching nonstop for days!"

North frowned and twisted small hairs on his beard. "I sink it might be time for all to search. I need to prepare Christmas, but Sandman can take break and let ze children dream by zemselves if zey vill. Tooth Fairy send small search party. Ve vill all search, but I send Yetis. I need to... vell, you understand, _da_?"

The Easter Bunny bowed his head and slipped out of the downy blanket; he hadn't remembered Santa's workshop to be so warm. How was it heated? He hopped on each foot and let out a sigh. It was cold last night. He couldn't wait for spring in America, which was where he was spending a lot of time nowadays.

"I'll tell her," Bunnymund offered. "And I'll also tell Sandy."

"Sank you," North said, and held out a cookie. The rabbit politely declined and nibbled on his carrot. "I hope ve find him before it's too late."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Jack had never gone sledding before. He remembered watching other children going down a gentle hill, and one girl in particular stood out to him. She wore a woolen hat and had short brown hair, and didn't laugh as much as the others. Jack could say she was almost mourning, as if she'd lost a friend. He didn't know how to relate. He'd never had any friends to lose.

Jack grinned and tapped a large slice of bark with his staff. It was instantly layered with a swirl of ice that he felt would keep it together for the purpose of this—this, an extreme of what he'd witnessed only a week ago. Jack placed the "sled" right on top of the almost mountainous hill and grinned for the fun he was surely to have.

The wind had been quiet today. "It's too warm," Jack muttered, despite the fact that it was just below freezing. He took some snow in one hand and sprinkled it onto his head to cool off. "Alright!" Jack shouted to the sky, where he knew the Moon hid in the sun's bright light. He remembered his first morning, which had been terrifying. The only light he knew was replaced by something a thousand times brighter, something that heated his back when he bent down to pick up snow. The sun felt to Jack like an enemy, but he didn't know what to call the Moon. It had breathed life into him, told him his name, but—nothing. Nothing else. Jack spent hours begging the Moon, pleading with every ounce of his soul. He flew up and up and up and up until he could hardly breathe anymore, just to get closer, to sound a little more significant. He shouted until he could shout no more. But he gave up easily. Fell back into his cave. Tried to forget by having fun—

Fun! Aha. Jack loved to have fun. He examined his little sled and nodded in approval. The lake below was frozen and he looked forward to the finale it was sure to give. He floated up and landed on the bark gently. It curled under his weight, which was not very much—he couldn't be sure, though, not really. The other people in Burgess were similarly skinny.

Jack took a deep breath and dug his hands into the snow. Here he was. Ready to go. He tucked his staff between his leg and the bark, and pushed off with nothing to lose.

"_Yaaaaahoooooooooooooo_!"

Down, down, _down_! It was the most exhilarating thing Jack had ever done, more fun than flying through the air creating clouds and snow as he pleased. Down the steep slope at a pace he couldn't even account for! Jack could feel every fiber of his being scream with excitement and joy, because _this_ was what he'd been missing in Burgess! He couldn't imagine the smalltown folk sledding like _this_. It was more dangerous than provoking a polar bear- but _so_ much _fun_!

"How ya like me now, wooooo- ahh!" Jack laughed as best he could, but at this speed he could hardly even speak. It was all screaming and cackles.

Jack braced himself for when the bark would hit the frozen lake. He shut his eyes tight, ready to slide across it faster than light.

But instead, it landed with a loud _crack_ and he could feel the ice vibrate and break into giant heaps of slate. He tried to grab onto something but nothing reached his fingers.

His poorly constructed sled was engulfed by the depths and didn't return. Jack's eyes popped open and he felt for himself the pellets of ice raining down on his head from the breaking top layer. His heartbeat accelerated and he held his breath instinctively, helpless against a humongous triangular block of ice that sped toward him.

Jack couldn't find his staff. He couldn't control the water or heat.

For the first time since his first day of life, Jack felt afraid. He was in the water and he was swallowing it like a starving cow, and it was doing the same to him.

He reached up and coughed out- it was cold, but he could survive that, he thrived on that. The only problem was, Jack did not know how to swim. He'd never even thought about it. Why swim when you can cut through the skies as easily as a raindrop? He grabbed onto the massive ice block and held it for dear life.

"No," Jack said, spluttering and scampering. He couldn't get around the ice to find solid ground. "Help! Someone- help!"

_No one can see me._

"P-please!"

_No one can hear me._

"Somebody! _Anybody_!"

_I don't even exist._

He could feel the fear and shock take over like a boulder dropping on his head. It was so deep and so dangerous, and he wondered if the fun had been worth it. He decided it was, because no one would really care if he died right here. It'd been fun.

"Please..."

His fingers slipped off of the ice and he sunk down a good deal. At six feet under, Jack heard something in the water with him. He opened his eyes and flinched at the water surrounding them. It didn't feel natural. It was suffocating, literally and like a vacuum.

He wanted to call out, but couldn't find his voice. "Hello," he wanted to say, "who's there?"

_My staff_, he thought, _where is it_?

Just when he needed it the most, the long wooden staff tickled his fingers, an angel amongst monsters. Jack found his grip and held on tight. He summoned the power to freeze water below his feet. With the staff, he created thin stairs and worked his way up, up, up. It was slow. He couldn't feel any of his limbs, yet his brain told him they were all creaking and sore and entirely useless.

Jack's head emerged from the water and the oxygen was heaven-sent. It filled his lungs and sent a judder through his blood. When he pulled himself out of the water, he crawled onto the non-broken ice and lay there, happy that the water had at least been cold. It was beautifully freezing and Jack knew that a normal human would be dead already.

"Thank you," he whispered to the staff. "Thank you..."

Jack Frost promptly fainted.


	5. Bunnymund

End of chapter 4:

_Jack's head emerged from the water and the oxygen was heaven-sent. It filled his lungs and sent a judder through his blood. When he pulled himself out of the water, he crawled onto the non-broken ice and lay there for a long while. It was beautifully freezing and Jack knew that a normal human would be dead already. _

"_Thank you," he whispered to the staff. "Thank you..."_

_Jack Frost promptly fainted._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bunnymund told the other Guardians that he would search the area around Burgess. He still wanted to be the one to find Jack Frost, but the others were looking in case Frost was able to travel far.

He'd gone through enough winter already. It was too cold and wet and exhausting for one measly bunny, but then again, he wasn't just a measly bunny— he was the _Easter _Bunny, born of the spring and hope from the hearts of millions. It was his job to keep that hope alive. If Jack Frost was threatening anyone, it was the Guardians. Bunnymund felt hot with contempt and bounced around until he could bounce no more.

"What am I even lookin' for?" he wondered, and suddenly wished for a nice hot Australian sunny day. The clouds were weak and he sprinkled some snow onto his tongue to stay hydrated. "Footsteps? Weird ice? A wreck?"

He sniffed the air and felt rather hopeless. Jack Frost's scent was nowhere. The days of looking through ice and sleet were beginning to take their toll. He wondered what was wrong with his nose. And he could barely hear anything but wind, wind, _wind_. Bunnymund watched the sun go down and sadly tapped the ground with his foot- a magic portal appeared and he jumped into the rabbit hole, glad that it was dirty and dry. He cut off the outside world and snuggled into the wall, not planning to sleep but only to rest. It was so warm... so comfy...

Unfortunately for him, Bunnymund dozed off, but was awoken by loud shout, and his ear perked and his first thought was _danger_. _danger_. _danger_.

"Someone- help!"

Bunnymund hopped up and brushed the dirt off of himself. That was the voice of a child, he knew, a teenager. He shook himself all over and then jumped out of the hole, landing on snow that he was not prepared for. It sent a stinging tingle through his body.

"Hello?" he shouted, but the hello echoed back and there was silence otherwise. It was already bright out. It felt like he'd only been asleep for an hour or two, not an entire night but, from the position of the sun, it was morning.

"P-please!" came the voice. Bunnymund knew the direction to go immediately- due east. He readied himself and then took a giant leap- thirty feet, easily. Again, and then again. "Somebody! _Anybody_!"

Bunnymund felt sick. There was a kid over here in _great_ danger, and he was probably alone- what if Jack Frost was causing this? Steam all but poured from his ears as he jumped towards the boy as fast as he could. There was no time to waste. Summoning any other Guardian would result in the boy's death. He had to find him, _now_.

He listened for another shout for help, but there was nothing. Was the boy already lost? Bunnymund bent low and took several short breaths, then flew fifty feet into the air and looked around fast.

_Where are you, kid? Where- there!_

He didn't see a child, but he could see a hole in the ice where someone surely just sunk. The ice was freshly broken. By directing his feet, Bunnymund landed a few yards away and hurried over. He looked into the depths, but couldn't see anything around the snow and slush. He had to save him. If anything, this was worth dying for.

Bunnymund was not an idiot. If he jumped into the water, he would die immediately and both he and the child would be lost. He looked around for something to help. A shepherd's crook lay close to the hole. It obviously belonged to the boy, and was shaped so that Bunnymund could pick it up and toss it in. He did just that, dipping in the hook to catch a hand or clothes.

He felt a grip, but it sent a shock through his body. Bunnymund jumped back and the stick sunk into the water. His throat felt dry.

"Are you down there?" he said. "Hello?"

The water had a soft glow to it, and the rabbit peered in to see why. When the boy emerged, he couldn't seem to see anything. Bunnymund ran close to help him out, but didn't need to. The child collapsed and was knocked out.

"Hey, hey," said Bunnymund, placing a giant paw over the shivering heap of skin and bones. "You're a skinny one. C'mere," he said, and lifted him. "Cold. How are you alive?"

The boy's hair was as white as their surroundings and his skin almost just as pale. He had no shoes. His clothes were simple, so otherwise he just looked like a normal kid. Bunnymund listened to his heart and it fluttered healthily.

He took the staff and carried the boy a small way away from the hole in the ice. He brought them back into the ground, and Bunnymund rested the child on some dirt.

"Are you alright?" he muttered, mostly to himself. "Try to warm up... poor bugger. Can't be more than sixteen..."

Bunnymund decided his search for Jack Frost could wait. This kid needed care. Bringing him to North was probably the best decision, but with Christmas coming up, he didn't trust Santa Claus or the Yetis to nurse this guy back to health. Besides, what were another couple hours?

He covered his boomerang with soft dirt and used it as a pillow for the kid. It was warm underground, and he felt great. If only he had a carrot...

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A/N: This chapter is prone to editing. Next update on the 23rd.


	6. Hostage

End of chapter 5:

_Bunnymund decided his search for Jack Frost could wait. This kid needed care. Bringing him to North was probably the best decision, but with Christmas coming up, he didn't trust Santa Claus or the Yetis to nurse this guy back to health. Besides, what was another couple hours?_

_He covered his boomerang with soft dirt and used it as a pillow for the kid. It was warm underground, and he felt great. If only he had a carrot..._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_It's so warm..._

Jack's eyes flew open and he felt sweat fall from his forehead to his hair. He sat up and looked around, but it was too dark to see anything. The last thing he remembered was... being in the water, sinking deeper and deeper... From experience Jack knew that calling out would not result in any sort of response, but he did it anyway.

"H-hello?"

Jack groaned. He felt hot, like the sun. He coughed and searched the muddy floor for his staff. It wasn't there.

"Hello?" Jack repeated. "Helloooo?"

The sound was absorbed; it didn't echo like his own cave. It was _like_ a cave... a really deep cave, only made of dirt, not ice. He got on all fours to feel the floors and they curved upward into the walls, and then the ceiling. Dirt fell into his white hair and onto his face- Jack had to spit out a bit of it. He sniffed. The air was musty and warm. He felt roots coming out of every surface, like little fingers reaching for the center. It was a tunnel.

"Is anyone here?" Jack crawled, feeling with his hands because the light was too dim for any other way of getting around. He had to wonder where the little light came from.

Jack froze when his hands touched something soft; something fluffy and warm. He fell back a good deal and looked forward with wide blue eyes, feeling naked and scared without his staff.

"Who's there?" he asked. Nothing responded in voice, but the thing he had touched was alive. It stood up and looked like a werewolf. Jack cowered.

"Who's there?" he repeated.

"Hey," said the voice. It had a strange accent. "Are you alright?"

Jack felt his heartbeat accelerate. Had the monster just spoken to him? Was _that_ what he was- a _monster_, only able to communicate with other monsters? His fingers dug into the dirt. It was hard to think with all this heat. He coughed again, and pulled a hand out of the ground. His fingernails were full of mud.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you- are you cold? It's a little chilly. What's your name?"

"I'm burning up," said Jack. It was his imagination. It had to be his imagination.

The monster didn't answer for a second. "What? It- it's kind of cold, don't you think...?"

"You can't see me," Jack said, ignoring the question. "You can't actually _see_ me."

"Well, granted, it's a little dark..."

"Stop."

"What? You're worrying me, mate."

"I need to get back to the snow. How do I get there?"

"...Were you attacked?"

"_What_? How do I get back to the top?"

"I said, were you attacked? About a week or two ago, did you hear anything... strange? Were you attacked by something? Someone?"

"You're crazy!"

"What's your name?"

"Jack."

"Jack, were you- wait. What did you just say?"

"You're crazy, that's what."

"No-" The monster sounded agitated. It cleared its throat and its tone of voice morphed into something akin to fear. "Your name. What was it?"

"Jack. Why am I still talking to you?"

Jack hesitated, as if waiting for an answer, but decided against it. He stood up and dug his fingers into the wall, ready to get himself out of this hole. The snow _had_ to be above, right? The roots must have meant they were underground. He spit into each hand and started to claw his way into the top of the tunnel. But the monster put its paws on either side of him and pulled him away.

"Hey!" Jack yelled. "What are you doing? I need to-" he squirmed until he dropped to the ground. "Ow! I need to get back up there! You're crazy- leave me alone! I made you up. You can't see me."

He was beginning to doubt that. What kind of imaginative creation could _lift_ him? That was impossible. But this monster _had_ to be as real to Jack as Jack was to everyone. It wasn't allowed to exist.

"You didn't make me up, mate. And I'm just wonderin'- is your name Frost?"

"Jack Frost. You'd obviously know, being in my head and all."

Jack was walking down the tunnel one second and was on the ground next. He could feel himself being crushed by this massive fluffy _something_. It was a little bit painful and he realized that it had to be real. The weight and fur added to his problem with the high temperature.

"Get off!" Jack yelled. "Get-"

A paw was placed over his mouth. In a sickening swoop, light shone bright and they were in the snow, tackling like dogs. Jack mumbled through the fur and tried to bite it away, but not even the sudden coldness could help with his searing headache. He stopped struggling and waited for the worst.

The monster turned him round so they were face to face. It was a- a- a rabbit.

A _rabbit_?

Neither spoke for some time. The rabbit stared at Jack as if he had six eyes, and Jack gave the rabbit a look of strong contempt. The wind blew, and the rabbit shivered- it liked the heat, apparently, and not the cold. Jack smirked briefly.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, trying to get away.

"You're not- well- _are_ you?"

Jack kicked at the snow in frustration. "Just let me go! Can't we talk like civilized- err, people?" It was a rabbit, but a giant _talking_ rabbit, so...

"I'm a _bunny_. Name's the Easter Bunny- Bunnymund."

"Great. Why are you a giant talking rabbit?"

"I'm the _Easter_ Bunny."

"What's Easter?"

It stopped moving long enough for Jack to get out of its hold. He stood up and brushed himself off of dirt and melting snow. The wind was strong, whistling and loud. Jack looked around, but there was no escape, and his staff was still hidden below them.

"Easter is a holiday, like... like Christmas." Bunnymund seemed a little reluctant to admit it had similarities to Christmas.

"What's Christmas?"

"_What_'s _Christmas_?" His eyes were wide for such a mean-looking creature, but the effect of his astonishment was undermined when a flurry of wind seeped into his fur. "L-look, I don't have time to answer stupid questions. _Who_ are you and _what_ are you doing here?"

"_I_ don't have time to answer stupid questions," Jack retorted. But he rather liked talking to someone. It'd been over a month since he was "born," and it was the first interaction he'd ever had. He'd only seen humans speak. He wished he had a human, just one, to talk to. Would a giant bunny be enough? It seemed insane.

"I need answers, kid. I'm not letting you g-go until you answer me."

"You're freezing your brains out!" Jack said. "I could leave at any time."

Bunnymund grinned- a humanoid face of fur and whiskers. It was rather menacing. "Your name is Jack Frost?" he asked, wanting to confirm it.

Jack nodded.

"And, ahh... is that your _staff_ below us? In my, ahh, magical portal which _only I_ can access?" Bunnymund asked.

He froze, unsure of what to say. Why not humor the rabbit? But he wanted to go have fun. What if Bunnymund wasn't true to his word? What if he kidnapped Jack? "Yeah, it's my staff, but I can just get another one."

"I've a feeling you're lying."

"Well, I'm not."

"What are your powers?"

"What? I don't... what are you- I'm leaving."

Jack turned around and began to walk away; Bunnymund did not stop him. He walked some more, slowing down with each step. He'd only gone a few feet before stopping completely and clenching his fists. _Damn_. Jack reluctantly looked back and let out a sigh of defeat. They stared at each other for a long while; Bunnymund shivered but Jack stood in the snow, barefoot, completely silent, completely still.

"Alright," he finally said. "ask away."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A/N: Your reviews are simply lovely.


	7. Thirty-two

**A/N: **Reupdate. Fixed a couple of typos, etc. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians or any of its characters, ideas, or quotes. This is pure fanfiction.**

End of chapter 6:

_Jack turned around and began to walk away; Bunnymund did not stop him. He walked some more, slowing down with each step. He'd only gone a few feet before stopping completely and clenching his fists. _Damn_. Jack reluctantly looked back and let out a sigh of defeat. They stared at each other for a long while; Bunnymund shivered but Jack stood in the snow, barefoot, completely silent, completely still._

"_Alright," he finally said. "ask away."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

They created a small clearing, and with a wave of his paw, Bunnymund could sprout grass and flowers where they sat. Jack dropped to his knees and stared at the petals in amazement. They were beautiful; so many different colors in such a tiny thing that sprung from the cold ground. He'd never seen flowers before. Because Bunnymund had been weary of the wind, Jack help up his hands and asked it to leave them alone. It complied, and he thanked it in his head, wishing for his staff as well, so he could not only ask favors of the wind, but ride it as well.

"What's your name?" Jack asked, crossing his legs.

"Bunnymund, already toldja. I'm askin' the questions, mate."

Jack held up his hands. "Hey, sorry, just wanted to start the conversation already."

The rabbit looked at Jack and crinkled up his nose in confusion. This was a boy, a _teenage_ boy, not the monster he'd been expecting. It was a skinny little kid. Bunnymund was a little relieved because Jack Frost did not have huge claws made of ice nor skin of snow, and while his hair was white, he looked normal otherwise. Bunnymund felt rather daft because he hadn't noticed the non-human scent before; he supposed the cold weather might have affected his sense of smell, even though it was refined and near-perfect compared with his, ah, _former_ self.

"Well?" Jack said.

"How old are you?" he asked, not because it was important to save Christmas, but out of sheer curiosity.

"Let's see..." Jack paused for a moment and looked down at his fingers, counting by fives. He looked up and confidently said, "I'm thirty-two."

The Easter Bunny was taken aback. He looked at Jack incredulously. "_You're what?__"_

"Thirty-two," Jack repeated, as if it were obvious, as if it weren't strange.

"You're bloody six_teen!"_ he almost shouted. "You're a bloody kid!"

"Hey," Jack laughed, "I looked the same when I was sixteen."

Bunnymund was beyond confused. He backtracked and held up his paws and shook his head. This didn't make any sense at all. Bunnymund took in a deep breath and tried to confirm with a weak-spoken, "_Thirty_-_two_ years old?"

"Years?" Jack asked, frowning slightly. "I'm thirty-two _days_."

Something in the rabbit's eye clicked to comprehension. He looked at Jack differently, like he was a new species of insect. Thirty-two days… _days_. "Thirty-two days old?" he repeated, finding it hard to speak.

"Yeah," Jack answered, head suddenly full of worry. Was that not… normal? Jack almost laughed at the thought- there was nothing _normal_ about him. No one except for a _giant_ _rabbit_ could see him, he could control ice and snow, he could _fly_, and the moon spoke to him. He didn't know anything about "normal" or "abnormal" until he saw how the people in the village acted. _They_ didn't look up into the sky every night searching for answers. They went about their boring little lives baking bread and building fires, paying taxes and yelling at children. Jack actually felt glad that he didn't have to live like that.

"Well then, where were you thirty-three days ago?" asked Bunnymund defiantly. "You had to be doing _something_."

The answer seemed obvious to Jack. "I didn't exist."

"Jack," Bunnymund said, voice akin to parental, "have you ever seen a baby? A little ankle-biter? In that town- Burgess?"

Jack nodded, smiling. He liked babies. They were funny; had big eyes, full of wonder. "Yeah," he said.

"_Those_ are thirty-two days old. When you're thirty-two days old, you're a _baby_. And a very fresh one, at that. _You_ are _not_ a baby." Bunnymund had to be firm. Jack needed to understand. "Where did you come from?"

"I just... woke up."

"Exactly as you are now?"

"Yeah. No shoes- everyone in town has something on their feet. Not me. And, also, wearing these clothes. They're kinda tight."

"Where did the clothes come from?"

"I don't know."

Bunnymund stopped for a moment to take in the look of Jack. He had to get to the bottom of this, if not for saving the children, then for his own benefit. How on earth could Jack Frost exist? There had to be a logical explanation. Every other magical creature he'd met had been from somewhere, done something memorable. The rabbit took a deep breath. He decided to start from the beginning.

"What's the first thing you remember?" he asked gently.

Jack frowned and looked at the grass. He closed his eyes, and settled back into a position that helped him remember.

"Darkness," he mumbled. "It was dark... and cold." _I was scared,_ he thought.

"Then what?"

"Then I... I saw the moon. It- it was so big, and it was so _bright_. It... it seemed to chase the darkness away." _I wasn't scared anymore_.

"Nothing before that?"

"No."_ I didn't know anything. I could hardly even think._

"What about afterwards?"

"My staff. I picked up my staff and ran around. I could create ice patterns- they were really fun to make. They were beautiful." Jack looked at the flowers. "They were amazing."

Bunnymund groaned. "Are you serious? That's all you remember?"

"Yes," Jack said.

"What about your name?" he asked. "Your story doesn't make sense. How can you know your name if _that_ was your birth?"

"I didn't know my name for thirteen days," said Jack. "The moon told me."

Bunnymund could feel his train of thought crash into oblivion. He felt his throat seize up and his head felt light. The _moon_? He must have meant the Man in the Moon. The Man in the Moon spoke to him? Bunnymund tried to remember. Thirty-two minus thirteen equaled nineteen. That seemed right; he'd been looking for Jack Frost for _nineteen_ days. Everyone, _everyone_, heard his name just over two weeks ago. The Man in the Moon told the entire _world_ Jack Frost's name. Why?

"What about the people?" Bunnymund asked weakly. He rubbed his paws together and conjured more flowers for a colorful comfort. "What did the people tell you? In Burgess?"

Jack laughed, and the rabbit was confounded. "What do you mean,_ 'what did the people tell you?''_" He laughed again.

"I mean just that," he said. "I'm bein' clear as a diamond. Did people think it was strange that you didn't know your name? Or that it was spoken in the heads of _everyone_? What did they think of ya?"

There was a long silence, and Bunnymund was getting impatient. "_Well_?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Not a bit!"

"People _can_'t see me!" Jack almost shouted. "They don't look at me, they can't hear me, and they walk right through me. I'm invisible. It's like I don't even exist."

It was as surprising for Bunnymund to hear this as it was to see Jack as a young boy. He knew that the village folk heard the name and spoke it. That was how he tracked down the place; condensed vocalization of the specific words _Jack Frost _for a prolonged period of time... this didn't make any sense.

"Your name," he said. "Did they say it?"

"They think that I'm some evil spirit," Jack said dismissively. He'd learned how to laugh it off in his days of absence, because otherwise it would have felt too lonely and sad. "That's why I left, I was sick of it. So I left. And then you _kidnapped_ me, and held my staff hostage."

"Jack," Bunnymund pressed, worry etched onto his somehow comically fluffy face. "Jack, you can't just appear one day. It's not scientifically possible. And you got the attention of the Guardians. That's not easy. You ever cause any bit a' trouble, mate?"

"No," he answered, but Bunnymund could tell he was lying from the way he acted. Jack was too young to know how to lie properly. He was too young to know how to do _anything_ properly. Where did all that knowledge come from- speaking, especially?

"No trouble at all?"

"No."

"Snowballs?"

"Maybe- maybe one, or maybe two."

"Injuries?"

"No," he said, but Jack's ashamed face told Bunnymund all he needed to know. There was no point in beating around the bush right now. He needed to tell Jack what not to do, and if it was ever needed, he'd come and talk again.

"Jack Frost, listen closely," Bunnymund said, coming in closer and leaning forward. He checked for the boy's attention. "Listen. Try to not attract attention. I don't know what you are, or who you are, but you're very powerful. My job is to protect children, do you understand?" Jack nodded. "Good. If you create blizzards, snowstorms, _anything_, that threatens to harm _anyone?_ We're gonna have to find you again. And stop you."

This left neither one with a particularly easy feeling. Bunnymund felt a little guilty and Jack was nervous. Jack bit his lip and nodded, but something told him that mischief would play a major part in his life.

Bunnymund stood up, and tapped his foot on the ground. The feeling of being pulled through the magic portal was nauseating to Jack, but they landed in the dirt rather softly, and Bunnymund handed Jack's staff to him.

"Thanks," said Jack.

"Where are you headed?"

He shrugged. "Wherever the wind takes me."


	8. Jaime

**A/N: Dear readers, yes, the title is supposed to be uncapitalized. It's sort of supposed to emphasize Jack's naivety and innocence. This'll be more stressed in later chapters.**

End of chapter 7:

_Bunnymund stood up, and tapped his foot on the ground. The feeling of being pulled through the magic portal was nauseating to Jack, but they landed in the dirt rather softly, and Bunnymund handed Jack's staff to him._

"_Thanks," said Jack._

"_Where are you headed?"_

_He shrugged. "Wherever the wind takes me."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bunnymund had gone to do... _whatever_ it was he did, and Jack stood alone with his staff as the snow and wind picked up. He jumped up high and flew away, light as a leaf. Burgess couldn't have been far, but Jack decided that they wouldn't take kindly to his presence. Instead of heading back home, he chose to do what he'd said before; follow the wind.

Jack shouted with delight as he made his way over the snow and deer in forests that were larger than he knew possible. The world never ended; he kept going and there was always more, always something new. He didn't know what cardinal direction he was headed, but that really didn't matter. Whenever the temperature rose a few degrees, he'd turn around and run in the sky to find a cooler place. It was all very beautiful, but he couldn't handle the heat. It was uncomfortable and belittling. He wanted to see flowers and colors but the ice didn't allow growth.

"Ahaaa!" Jack yelled out. He didn't let that dampen his spirits. "Jack Frost, evil snow spirit, coming down for some fuuuu-_uuuun_- oh, _shi_- OW!"

He landed roughly in a pile of dirt, falling back and groaning. "Oh, man," he muttered. "That was great."

A bruise developed on his head and it throbbed painfully, but Jack laughed despite himself. The sun was shining and the snow glittered like treasure. Jack suddenly remembered seeing children make a man of snow once (a "snowman," they'd said)—and Jack wanted one. He wanted to make his own snowman. Maybe with his magic staff it would come to life.

Before starting, Jack plopped some snow on top of his bruise to ease the pain, and then rubbed his hands together. This would be _wonderful_. He waved his staff and began to gather snow by simply sweeping with his staff and commanding it. Up, up, pile it up. The result was something of a miracle: a pile taller than his head and fatter than a cow. He jabbed the staff into the ground aside and worked the stack of flakes into a rather misshapen man, with lumps and bumps and no limbs.

"Sorry," he laughed, trying to smooth down the snow. It was a sad sight to behold; he thought perhaps to study other creations would help him concoct something magnificent. Right now, it was a pitiful mass of shame. He couldn't bring this to life. He'd have to practice, he'd have to mold other things.

"I'm gonna make you look good," Jack promised, and looked around for something to be an arm (preferably two). He was in the middle of arctic nothinigness, which meant no trees, no buttons, nothing. The only color for miles was a blue reflection of the sky and snow.

Jack cocked his head at his… _child_. He poked in two eyes and a mouth. It still wasn't complete. He looked down at his own chest and took in a deep breath. "Alright. Here we go, I'll just have to give you this," he said, and pulled off the cloak from his shoulders, draping it around the snowman's. He grinned. It smiled deafly back at him. The brown complimented everything about it in a sad little way.

"Jamie," he breathed, staring into the empty eyes. "It's a good name, right? I know eleven names. Jack, Bunnymund, Helga, George, Sophie, Abigail, Jamie, Gideon, Cyrus, Isaac and Mary. I think I should visit some more towns and learn more. You'll have brothers, Jamie... a hundred of them! A thousand! When I learn how to make snowmen, I'll come back here and resurrect you. How about that, huh? You'll be a tiny stump of snow but I'll build from that."

Jack wrapped his arms around the crude thing. It was gorgeously frosty. He inhaled and basked in the wonderful dusty smell of snow. That was one of his favorite things about the winter- the smell. He also loved the air, the sky, the pale sky that reflected his own eyes. Frozen lakes and hills, snowballs and flurries. Blue and white, white and blue, and everything in between. He pressed his lips to the snowman's forehead, which was even with his own.

"Promise," Jack said. "I'll come back."

He pulled away and stepped back to take it in. With the brown cloak, it looked complete. Jack pat Jamie the snowman's head and bid it farewell. He summoned the wind and left with his staff. The brown dot in white got smaller and smaller until he was too far away to see it anymore.

And with that, he forgot he had ever created such a beast.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: I approached this bit with Peter Pan in mind.**

**I just started writing chapter 14 and I'm running out of ideas. PM me ideas, leave them in reviews, whatever. We've got 300 years to kill. But I can't update as quickly without any content…I ****will**** let you know if I'll use the idea or not, and when. Thanks for reading. **


	9. Nice List

End of chapter 8:

_He pulled away and stepped back to take it in. With the brown cloak, it looked complete. Jack pat Jamie the snowman's head and bid it farewell. He summoned the wind and left with his staff. The brown dot in white got smaller and smaller until he was too far away to see it anymore._

_And with that, he forgot he had ever created such a beast._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Bunnymund!" North exclaimed, patting his forehead with a white and red handkerchief. Christmas was in eleven days and he was forever worrying about Jack Frost. "I never 'sought I vould be 'appy to see you."

Bunnymund kicked snow from his feet and gave Santa a look. "Right, well, I'm here whether ya like me or not, ya dill. And I've got news for ya."

North looked at the Easter Bunny hopefully. "Is Jack Frost? You found him?"

"...Can I see your Christmas list?" Bunnymund asked absently, rubbing his paws together for a spark of warmth.

"Vat? I need to know about Jack Frost, rabbit!"

"Yeah, I _know_, crikey! Just let me see the list."

"Vhich vun?"

Bunnymund frowned. He tried to imagine which list Jack Frost would be on. "...The naughty list," he finally decided.

North sighed deeply. "I vill be right back. But you must tell vhat you know of Jack Frost!" He turned around to find the list.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Bunnymund muttered to himself.

While North was gone, Bunnymund looked around the workshop and stepped in to stretch a little. He yawned, and suddenly felt much better despite achy muscles and a slight headache. Bunnymund then vowed to himself to never go out in the snow again, unless it was absolutely necessary- snow on Easter was the bane of his existence. He helped himself to a seat and noticed that there were carrots on the table. His stomach growled appropriately. Bunnymund reached for a carrot and nibbled with delight.

He heard a small crash from behind the door, and almost went to investigate when North busted in, holding a scroll of paper that could easy have been a mile long. Bunnymund's nose twitched and he held out his unoccupied paw.

"Zere you are. Now tell me, please!"

"Patience, old man!"

The rabbit carefully opened the list and searched for the F's. To his dismay the names were not alphabetical by the surname but by what the child was called. He found the J's and had to read about two hundred _Jacks_ before he realized that_ Jack Frost was not in the naughty list_. Bunnymund felt weak in the knees. Did that mean he wouldn't be on the nice list either? Was he even a child- could he be a shapeshifter? Had Jack Frost deceived him?

"North, I need the other list," Bunnymund said quietly. "The nice list..."

"Vhat!" North was exasperated. He plopped himself down in a big chair and shoved a cookie into his mouth. "I give you naughty, juu say no, I vill not give nice till you tell me _vhy_."

"I can't _explain_ it," Bunnymund articulated, "until I _show_ you!"

North fell silent and gave Bunnymund a look of chagrin. It was a while before he complied, figuring that whatever Bunnymund had to tell him, it couldn't be bad since he wasn't jittery or worried, just a little irritant. He asked a Yeti to bring in the nice list, which, when put next to the naughty list, was overwhelmingly long. With the population growing each and every day, Bunnymund wondered how North pulled it off. There were a billion people in the world right now- goodness knew how many there would be in fifty or a hundred years. Two billion people was plenty, if you asked him. Even that was pushing it.

"Thank you," Bunnymund said forcefully, and again looked through the list with sore eyes. Upon reaching _Jack Fryar_, he was thoroughly convinced that Jack Frost had been lying to him. He wasn't an ignorant little kid. He was a shapeshifter, and Bunnymund let him go. _Shit_.

"We- we've got a problem, North," said the rabbit, feeling his throat go dry. He stared at the names and put down the list, looking back up at North.

"Vhat is it?" said North impatiently. "Vhat, tell me!"

"I caught Jack Frost," he answered, "and it was just a kid, probably sixteen, seventeen."

Santa Claus's eyebrows shot up. "He's _vhat_?" Apparently, he'd had the same image of Jack Frost in his mind that Bunnymund had had. Old, creepy, ugly, not very nice at all.

"A skinny little thing. But when I looked through this- this list, and the other list, neither one showed Jack Frost. And so..." Bunnymund trailed off, leaving North to assume the worst.

"Let me see," he said, and picked up the nice list with the utmost care. His eyes scanned over the names at an incredible speed. That must have been how he was able to get through each year- an amazing reading speed.

Bunnymund watched anxiously and chewed his carrot until he bit his paw. It was painful but he hardly took notice because North looked up and proclaimed loudly, "Aha!"

"What is it?" Bunnymund asked eagerly.

"Wery interestink. Ze name is here!"

North pointed one large finger at the name _Jack Frost _on the nice list. It was between _Jackson Old _and _Jared Padalecki_. The Easter Bunny stared at it curiously. What was going on? He voiced his concerns.

"Has only 'appened vunce before, Bunny." He cleared his throat and looked anywhere but the other Guardian's face. It not only upset him to admit it, but the reason Jack Frost had caught their attention was just cruel. North took a deep breath and said, "The boy is a ghost."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: Because when is a better time to reference Supernatural?**

**Thank you for the support and ideas. Always looking for more!**

…**I have a very serious question I'd like to ask ya'll. If you're curious, PM me. In all seriousness.**


	10. Old Naught

**A/N: Thanks for the positive responses! I've written down many of your ideas and will try to incorporate them best I can. Again, thank you.**

_End of chapter 8:_

_North pointed one large finger at the name _Jack Frost_on the nice list. It was between _Old, Jane_and _Padalecki, Jared_. The Easter Bunny stared at it curiously. What was going on? He voiced his concerns._

"_Has only 'appened vunce before, Bunny." He cleared his throat and looked anywhere but the other Guardian's face. It not only upset him to admit it, but the reason Jack Frost had caught their attention was just cruel. North took a deep breath and said, "The boy is a ghost."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bunnymund's mouth popped open at this information. "A _ghost?_ Like- a dead...?"

North nodded gravely.

Bunnymund was stunned to silence. This must have explained why Jack had been surprised that he could be seen- not only surprised, but disbelieving. He ran his tongue over his teeth and stared down at his paws. Sure, kids died every day; hundred of them, thousands, and the Guardians had little to no control over their mortality rate. But the only other ghost they knew of was a tormented soul, one that had been rejected by Death himself and thrown back onto Earth to suffer in silence. He was not allowed to be seen or heard, could not influence anything or anyone. The only ones who could see him were Bunnymund, North, the Sandman and Toothina. It hadn't been a child, though. And Jack Frost could control the ice and snow. And Jack Frost's name had been different before he died, as the nice list suggested.

"He's not like Fredrick," Bunnymund said slowly, quietly. "He's got _power_, North, he can control the temperature and water in the same way that I can sprout flowers from the ground, or like you can enchant objects."

North hummed lowly and thoughtfully. He looked at the list again and again. It was the nice list; this child was nice. Good. Fair. North could not remember all the names of kids who had died in the past week, let alone month or maybe even year. Where was this kid from? When had he died? North twisted his lips quizzically and then turned toward Bunnymund.

"Did boy say anything about 'is death?" he asked.

"No. Nuthin'. Didn't know anything, the clod. Couldn't tell the difference between Easter and Christmas if you showed him a painted egg and hangin' mistletoe. Fresh like a baby."

"'Ow_ever_," North stressed, "His name vas changed as can see by list."

The Lists of Christmas could not be called perfect. The Guardians remembered very clearly the day that North called them in to help determine the problem with one of them- a very old naughty list, one from 1445, and a man who had by then grown up and was around thirty-five years old. His name was not in its right place either; in fact, it wasn't there at all. Fredrick's was a sad story, one about death and despair, something they didn't like to dwell on but found necessary to discuss at times. Death, literally Death, did not allow his soul to die but rather tossed it back onto Earth. Perhaps it was an experiment, or punishment, or something entirely different. But Fredrick was cursed for fifty years before he was given back to the Moon, finally accepted by Death. For fifty long years he lived without being seen or heard. The toll was too much. He went insane and Death realized that he needed to stop the madness before it was too late, before he gained raging powers or worse.

"Do you think he's an angry ghost?" North continued.

"No." Bunnymund was sure of it. "He said that he was thirty-two days old. I don't think he was lying- kid seemed genuinely confused when I told 'im that wasn't right. Can't be thirty-two days."

"Vhy not?" North inquired.

Bunnymund chuckled. "Well, it's not scientifically possible, for a teenager to appear from nothing."

"Friend, you are giant talking rabbit vith pastels."

Bunnymund opened his mouth to argue, but closed it. He sighed, and then said, "Well, we know he can't be that young. He's on the list after all."

North nodded, but was still smiling. He took the list in his large hands and rolled it up again, handing it to a Yeti. "'Sank you, Yuki," he said. "Please tell Phil I need to see him. Bunnymund," North continued. "If you could do favor and tell other Guardians search is over. I must attend to Christmas."

The rabbit frowned, but agreed nonetheless. He wanted to keep talking about it, but, it _was_ Christmastime and this was Santa Claus. Bunnymund tapped his foot on the floor twice and down sprang a hole. He hopped into it and went off to find Toothina.


	11. Flying to the Moon and back

**A/N: We're skipping a week or two. Bunnymund and North were talking on December 6, now it's the 17****th****. Will go back in chapter 14 again. Sorry for the confusion, guys, but I wrote this out of order due to lack of ideas/inspiration at certain times.**

End of chapter 9:

"_Bunnymund," said North. "If you could do favor and tell other Guardians search is over. I must attend to Christmas."_

_Bunnymund frowned, but agreed nonetheless. He wanted to keep talking about it, but, it was Christmastime and this was Santa Claus. Bunnymund tapped his foot on the floor twice and down sprang a hole. He hopped into it and went off to find Toothiana._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The nighttime air was cold and damp. Jack took in a breath and let it out in a puff of thin vapor, fascinated by the cloud that quickly disappeared. Without thinking, his hand snaked toward his staff and a pleasant jolt of frigidity shot through his body. Jack smiled to himself and blew out again, this time manipulating the steam to form a bunny. It was small, cute, and didn't last long.

Jack sighed. Small, cute, didn't last long- he wondered if that's what the "Easter Bunny" had been. Maybe it really was his imagination. But Jack remembered the heat of the tunnel and beauty of the flowers as if they had just happened. He bent down and sketched Bunnymund into the snow with his staff and stared for a long time. He'd been the first one. First contact.

"Where are you?" Jack asked his drawing. "Why'd you just come and then leave me? Threaten me? Can't you at least give me a- a little talking rabbit friend? Please?"

It didn't move. Jack scratched it away and stood up. The wind picked up and Jack jumped into the sky, sitting on his staff like a chair. As he soared higher and higher, the night became darker and the Moon was just a wisp in the sky. Jack looked at it, wishing he could go to the Moon. Maybe it was too far away for it to hear him.

_Maybe it was too far away for it to hear him._

Of course! If he flew _to_ the Moon, it would _have_ to listen to him! With a newfound motivation, Jack jumped off and flew closer to the Moon at a mile a minute. He leapt off ice crystals and spun to go faster, faster, faster! Up, up, up! It was exhilarating. Jack could feel the heat dissolving into a cold wonderland. He took in a deep breath and- wait.

Jack gasped for air.

Nothing.

He choked on his own throat and stopped flying when the staff fell from his hand. It dropped with him at an increasing and deadly speed. He tried to breathe but could not, and although it didn't hurt or freeze his lungs, it was more uncomfortable than heat. He could not breathe, could not feel any oxygen, felt his body shake with effort.

Jack looked about frantically. Everything was a blur, buzzing by and too fast. He couldn't shout for help because he had no voice, and his staff wasn't anywhere he could see. They were both falling and their distance from each other became too much for him to bear. Jack blinked and water bubbled out of his eye from the wind's claws.

He tested the air again, finding the oxygen rather thin. He blinked again and didn't open his eyes.

Passed out, Jack fell down and down until his body was covered in ice. There was nothing he could do as he plummeted towards certain doom. No one could see the boy falling from the sky, and even if they could, they wouldn't believe their own eyes. That was why when a child looked and saw a shooting star, he didn't believe it was a person, and no one believed in Jack Frost.

Jack plopped into a huge pile of snow and his neck snapped. There was no more breath, no more magic, no more laughter or anything. His brown faded vest was frozen and had broken on impact. His heart did not beat. He was dead.


	12. Tsar Lunar

**A/N: On a brighter note, I made a bunch of RotG Valentines.**

** post/42866233158**

End of chapter 10:

_Passed out, Jack fell down and down until his body was covered in ice. There was nothing he could do as he plummeted towards certain doom. No one could see the boy falling from the sky, and even if they could, they wouldn't believe their own eyes. That was why when a child looked and saw a shooting star, he didn't believe it was a person, and no one believed in Jack Frost._

_Jack plopped into a huge pile of snow and his neck snapped. There was no more breath, no more magic, no more laughter or anything. His brown faded vest was frozen and had broken on impact. His heart did not beat. He was dead._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

With the resilience of a dog separated from its master, Jack's staff whipped up into the air and turned this way and that. It steadily went up and made its way towards Jack's corpse. The process was slow, and the wind didn't help very much, but it landed next to him mutely.

Jack lay dead.

His staff shuddered and moved closer to his hand. On contact with the flesh, nothing happened. However, the wood was tenacious. It jumped up like a pogo stick onto Jack's chest, but his head still hung uselessly, as if he were a doll.

It began to snow, lightly as first, but the clouds thickened and threw pellets of hail. Jack's staff dropped to his side and they were both engulfed. It snowed for hours, an inch of snow and a foot of hail. Jack was buried like a child on the beach. They were stuck there for a long time- but then the Moon rose.

Tsar Lunar sat atop the Moon every day and night, or rather, every night and day. It was always nighttime _somewhere_ in the world and his favorite thing to do was watch his old friend Sandy spreading Dreamsand from the skies, intricate imagination pouring down and enticing children's thoughts.

Tsar Lunar was known to the Guardians as the Man in the Moon. Jack Frost didn't know this- he thought the _Moon_ had spoken to him, he thought the _Moon_ had told him his name. But it hadn't been the giant rock in the sky that was inhabited by Lunar Moths and Moonmice. The Man in the Moon had sent a message through space to reach the ears of everyone on Earth, so everyone would know that Jack Frost would be a Guardian one day, just like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, just like the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman. Tsar loved his friends very dearly, but he was old, and he could no longer fight or protect the children of the world.

When Jack Frost fell and broke his neck, the Man in the Moon was alerted by his Moonbots with their creaking joints and urgent messages. He listened very carefully to the way Jack had died; trying to find the Moon. Tsar looked down at Earth sadly. He didn't want it to be like this- he didn't want to leave Jack in the dark. But Jack had to figure out for himself the reason he was there. Tsar knew that Jack would grow to love children. He knew that it would take lots of time, and Jack would become very lonely and desperate in the process. But it had to be done. Tsar had resurrected Jack for a purpose, and he would do it again.

He _had_ to do it again.

He thanked his Moonbots and stood up tall, as tall as a very short man could stand, anyway. Jack's position on Earth was close to The Great Lakes of North America, which meant he hadn't travelled very far from Burgess. The Man in the Moon tried to find the spot on the planet with his eyes, and could see the gentle curve of the continent. Carefully, he retrieved his ornate telescope and peered into it, magnifying the spot in Ohio again and again. There was freshly fallen snow for miles, and Tsar Lunar was afraid Jack was lost forever.

"Alright," he said, rubbing two pudgy hands together and straightening his bowtie. "Jack Frost... Jack Frost..."

Down on Earth, Jack's staff began to vibrate and it poked out of the snow. When Tsar said Jack's name for the third time, blue sparks of ice shot from its curved head and flew like fireworks into the sky- surely they would be found now! And, that was just what happened. The Man in the Moon spotted bright blue icy crystals defying gravity and he had a great smile on his funny little face upon seeing the shepherd's crook. Jack would be right there. The staff was not broken.

The Man in the Moon bent down and picked up a very small rock, a Moon rock, extraterrestrial and magnificent. He whispered something into it, direct and important orders, then gave it a gentle kiss. The rock was warm. He checked to see Jack Frost's location again and crushed the rock in old but strong hands- then, he blew. The powder from the rock floated up into the never-ending space but had directions, a very specific place to land, a very specific person to heal.

The Man in the Moon took a step back and smiled. What he'd said to the pebble was simple, an order that would outlive every human and every beast. An order to save every human and beast.

"_Save Jackson Overland Frost no matter what."_


	13. Krissmiss

End of chapter 12:

_The Man in the Moon took a step back and smiled. What he'd said to the pebble was simple, an order that would outlive every human and every beast. An order to save every human and beast._

"Save Jackson Overland Frost no matter what."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

In little over a month, Jack Frost had fallen and sunken and overheated, he'd been trapped and scared and interrogated, he'd been banished and hated and hunted, ignored and invisible, alone and unwanted, desperate.

The electric blue eyes were stiff in death. When the eyelids fluttered open, when the heart began to beat, when the breath filled the lungs, the Moon dust hid away in the staff Jack was bound to. It fused in with the wood and was determined to keep this mission for its whole life, an immortal life. This boy was important, and the only one who knew why was Tsar Lunar. But the crushed rock was ready to wait around and find out. Even if it took a thousand years.

Jack sat up and felt his vest crack under the slightest pressure. It fell in little frozen pieces into the ice. He sneezed. He'd never sneezed before. If not comfortable, he could say it felt relieving. Jack dug himself out of the snow and sat atop the hard layer of ice, supporting his weight but creaking under it.

Jack sneezed again. The layer he was sitting on broke and he fell into the snow underneath. He giggled- it's been fun, and fun was what he lived for. He raised his hand and grabbed onto the staff. Then, without warning, he was swooped into the sky like a molecule of air and he let out a loud, loud laugh of joy.

"Yes!" Jack shouted. The use of his vocal chords ached a little, but he soon got over it. "This is what I've been waiting for!"

He didn't know he'd died. He hardly even remembered chasing the Moon. But now Jack felt more alive than ever and a series of laughter erupted from his mouth, laughter that would keep him going for a long time to come. He laughed and laughed, like a baby hyena, and when he thought of Bunnymund he laughed more at the thought of a giant speaking rabbit. Just remembering the fluffy face and long whiskers was enough to get him to laugh some more, and before he knew it, he was soaring through the sky faster than ever.

"Yes!" he yelled again. "That's what I'm talkin' about! You know what, Moon? I don't even _care_! So just ignore me, I _don_'t care. _I._ _Don't_. _Care_!"

Ohio turned into Indiana, and with the change of a degree it became Kentucky, more hours till Virginia- what would become West Virginia in years to come. Jack felt like he'd travelled the world, but would be surprised to find out what a small distance it'd actually been. He laughed some more as he fell, fell, down to a forest full of snow.

Jack groaned at the contact with the hard ground. It'd been sudden and painful, but he breathed out a great big breath and let the pain dissolve in his laughter. And, still chuckling slightly, Jack closed his eyes. He smiled and fell asleep wondering what would come of tomorrow.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Jack awoke in a daze. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes and sat up. The thinning shirt clung to his back. If couldn't last much longer in such harsh winter conditions. The cotton was slowly dissolving and it was bound to rip soon. Jack yawned and glanced at his surroundings, then froze- there was a deer, two, _three_- no. Seven deer, grazing lazily on the greens that sprung underneath the snow.

Jack jumped to his feet with a loud sound, which in turn caused the deer to freeze. He stayed very still, but they seemed to sense some sort of presence. Or maybe... could they see him? Was that it? Could they see him? Just not speak. The deer scattered. Jack needed to find the Easter Bunny again. He needed to ask.

Bunnymund had said something about a thing called _Easter_. Jack didn't know what it was, so he decided to find humans and discover for himself. They couldn't hear or see him, but maybe they'd mention it. Maybe he could learn. He could learn a million things- how did growing up work? Were people not always just... _there_? Did children become adults? Did thirty-two-day-old babies become old men in thirty-two years? What was a year? Jack had so many questions. He rolled up his sleeves and took his staff in hand, flying high to find civilization.

A few miles southeast of the forest, Jack found a village. It was snowing lightly, covering the roofs with a beautiful fresh blanket. Jack didn't like the peaceful setting. It wasn't fun or exciting, it was just... pretty. He landed in a strong gust of wind that pushed away snowflakes. A small flurry shook and people stared from all angles. Jack liked being the center of attention; he raised his hands and the snow glittered more brightly than was natural. Children's eyes widened in amazement and they shouted something along the lines of "Christmas miracle!"

"What?" Jack asked, and he was answered with another chorus of "Christmas miracle!"

"Christmas?" Jack said. "Bunnymund said something about that... Christmas... what's Christmas?"

Of course, there was no reply. His snow fell to the road and people turned away. Jack bit his lip and tried to stay calm. Getting angry wasn't going to solve anything; it would only make the villagers anxious. Like in Burgess. A repeat of that mess wouldn't be good.

"Christmas," said Jack. "Christmas. How is that spelled? I can read. Christmas... K... R... I... S... S... M... I... S... S..." He nodded. "That sounds right, I think."

He looked for something that started with a K around the place. All he saw was Kristine's Bakery. Maybe Krissmiss had nothing to do with shops. Maybe it was like Easter and had a giant animal accompanying it. The Krissmiss Deer? The Easter Bunny? It made sense to Jack. It was all he knew.

"Krissmiss," said Jack. "What..."

He looked at the glass window of the bakery. Inside, a child was breathing onto the glass and drawing pictures with a thin finger that resembled Jacks's. He bent down to eye level with the child and tapped the glass with his staff. Intricate patterns of ice crept around it. The child's eyes widened, and Jack grinned.

He took his own finger and attempted to write backwards: **"WAT IZ KRISSMASS?**"

Unfazed, the child inside giggled. "What is Christmas? This must be from God." She took a breath and closed her eyes. Her voice was a mere whisper; Jack could barely make it out. "Dear God, I do know what Christmas is. It is the celebration of our Lord Jesus. We love Him and we love You with all our hearts. Christmas is a time of joy for the family. Children receive gifts and we pay our deepest respects to the Lord Jesus, whom we love with all our hearts. It is a celebration of His birthday." She opened her eyes but shut them again quickly. "Amen." And she opened them again, a pleased smile on her face.

This only left Jack more confused. Who was Lord Jesus? Who was God? What was 'amen'? He recrystalized the glass, but she didn't see because she had gone away to collect breads with her mother.

Jack swore under his breath and stood up again. Annoyed, he walked down the street until he could find something useful. Would he ever find something useful? Would he ever know what Christmas was?

"Bunnymund," he begged. "Bunnymund, why didn't you tell me about Christmas or Amen? And I want to know about Easter. I want to know about family. What are all those things? Why do you think I'm so old? Did I appear because of magic?"

"Papa," Jack heard someone shout. "Papa!" He turned around to see a boy in a funny hat running down the side of the street, right towards Jack. But the ghost was run through. He quickly turned around to watch the scene unfold.

"Papa," gasped the panting child. The father chuckled and ruffled his son's hair.

"What is it, Johnny?" he said.

"Papa," the boy repeated. "George Pratt said that I- that I was to get _coal_ for Christmas. He's lying, isn't he? Haven't I been good? Papa, I've been very good."

Jack couldn't tell what his own expression was. It must have been somewhere between bewildered, intrigued and slightly disgusted.

"That boy is lying to you, Johnny," the father reassured his son. "Coal is definitely going to _him_. By the time December 25th comes, you'll have a _very_ nice display of goodies."

The boy called Johnny smiled proudly. Two teeth were missing from his mouth. The father took note and raised his eyebrows.

"What's in your mouth?" he asked.

The child's smile only widened. The gap was big enough to fit a finger through. "I lost two teeth," he announced with joy, patting his pocket.

Jack winced and his fingers immediately flew to his mouth. _Lost_ teeth? Wouldn't that be painful? Why would a child want to lose _teeth_? He ran his tongue over them appreciatively. He wasn't exactly sure what they were for, but they comforted him nonetheless.

"That's a trip from the Tooth Fairy," the father said, winking. Jack groaned. More confusion. What was a fairy and what did it have to do with his mouth? And what about Christmas? What about Lord Jesus?

"Come on," Jack urged. "Talk more about Christmas and coal. What's December 25th?"

He ran up to the pair and gazed curiously at them both. It would take a long time to get answers out of these people. But he had to try.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: Apologies for inaccuracies. I felt rather silly writing this chapter.**


	14. Toothiana

**A/N: We're going back a couple of days. This is right after ****chapter 10**** (with Bunny and North).**

End of chapter 13:

"_Come on," Jack urged. "Talk more about Christmas and coal. What's December 25th?"_

_He ran up to the pair and gazed curiously at them both. It would take a long time to get answers out of these people. But he had to try._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Wait, wait!" Tooth called, zooming in front of Bunnymund before he could jump down a rabbit hole. "Hold on, Bunny." She fell to the floor and brushed herself off.

"You can't do that," she said.

Bunnymund was genuinely confused. "Do what?"

Toothiana sighed and stepped from one foot to the other, restless as a child. "Really, Bun?"

"_Bun_? My name is _Bunnymund_-"

"Tell me about Jack Frost!" she urged, tapping his nose twice. "Come on!"

"There's nothing to tell," he protested, shooing her hand away.

Bunnymund had arrived in Tooth's palace, telling her to cancel the search for Jack Frost. He had hastily explained in very minimal detail about his encounter with the winter spirit, and his discovery of the resurrection. But now he said there were other things at hand, like starting to prepare for Easter. There were eight days until Christmas, and Bunnymund knew that once the New Year passed, there would be nonstop preparation until April.

Toothiana had other ideas.

"You said you met him," Tooth said flatly, crossing her thin feathered arms. Her wings twitched as one's fingers might in anticipation. Bunnymund pressed his lips together and gave her an equally tenacious look. "You met him, Bunny, and I want to know the details, stat."

Bunnymund sighed. She was just like a teenage girl, which, he had to admit, she _was_. Even younger than Jack, her mind was a frenzy of this and that, determination and excitement. She was into the _now now now_ and could easily get caught up in the explanation and importance of dental care ("you ever smell a dog's breath?" was one of her favorite arguments).

"I just want to know," she urged.

Her expression was to die for. Not only childish and eager, but depressing, because Bunnymund knew that if he told her, she would press on and on, until she heard the cold truth about Jack Frost's existence.

"Fine," Bunnymund said finally. "Okay. Alright. Just... do you have anywhere to sit?"

Toothiana flew three feet into the air with excitement and nodded enthusiastically. She buzzed away for a few moments but returned with a comfortable-looking chair. It was just the right size and proved to be better than it looked.

"Come on, Bunny... I'm gettin' impatient here! I've got a job to do."

He almost snapped back with a, "so do I!" but thought better of it. Instead, Bunnymund cleared his throat and began to tell his story.

"I thought Frost would be terrifying. I'm talking, take-out-a-Yeti-with-the-snap-of-a-finger. I thought his breath could turn me to ice. I thought his very _presence_ would make me feel uneasy, that his eyes would be cruel."

Toothiana grinned and nodded. She liked where this was going. The desire to _meet_ Jack only grew by the second. Was Jack Frost horrible? Or was he a kind winter spirit who had had a bad beginning? The wrong impression? Was he something totally different?

"But..." Bunnymund laughed as he remembered. "He was just... a kid."

Toothiana's face fell. "Wait, what do you mean, a kid? A child?" She'd been wagering for the strong and thirty-something year old man who could conjure ice with the snap of his fingers. But... a child? That wasn't terrible, she supposed. But the closest human spirit she knew was North, and, um, no. For thousands of years, Tooth had been working closely with children and spirits and children and fairies and she was so _tired_ of it all. A not-too-old spirit would suffice. A not-too-old-and-not-Boogeyman spirit, specifically.

But. A _child_? An _innocent_ immortal? That didn't make any sense.

"Yes," Bunnymund said, nodding his head. "A boy. He... well, probably the oldest I'd wager is eighteen. Physically. But that's pushing it. Actually, he couldn't be. Eighteen-year-olds don't get onto North's lists."

Toothiana's eyes widened and her hopes shot skyward again. "Eighteen!" she said cheerfully.

"Seventeen," Bunny responded. "Seventeen, _maybe_. But physically."

"Bun!" she exclaimed. "_I'm_ seventeen!"

Bunnymund's eyebrows rose. "So, you are," he responded, but after seeing her joy he had a rather strange thought. If rabbits could blush, Bunnymund would be bright red. "T-Toothiana!" he shouted. "You-"

Tooth giggled and touched her feet to the floor, letting the wings drop as she looked down. "Aw, c'mon, Bun," she said sympathetically, grinning. "I just... wanted to know."

Bunnymund cleared his throat again and looked anywhere but her. "And- and that's all that matters," he said, and stood up to tap his foot and create a passage.

"Wait!" Tooth cried, zipping up to him faster than the blink of an eye or, in this case, the tap of a large furry foot. "What about North's list?"

For a daydreamer, she sure paid close attention.

"It's nothing," Bunny said dismissively. "Nothing. He's just... on the list."

"Hey, hold on, _I'm _not even on the list," she said.

He shrugged. "You're not human, are you?"

"I was," Tooth countered. "I was on the list, a long time ago, remember?"

Regretfully he admitted defeat. Bunnymund sat back down on the chair. He tried very hard to think of what to say, but nothing came to mind.

"You'll be disappointed," he said quietly.

Toothiana calmed herself down and nodded. Her stance held something of what she had gained in the past thousand or more years. She wasn't a teenage girl, not anymore, not really. She was older than the mountains, sister to the wind. She was the magic in the night and held memories long forgotten. So many memories. She was not a child, and this was something her face could not easily betray. The young features fooled almost everyone. She was too young to have stopped aging when she did. The others were so old, so _wise_, and so powerful. All Toothiana did was collect old bones, bones that somehow held precious memories, good and bad. She rarely sifted through them to listen or watch, but when she did, it was impossible not to cry. The value of what she saw was golden like a memoir, something she usually forgot about when everything was busy.

And so, instead of squealing or freaking out, Toothiana bowed her head and asked Bunnymund to continue with his story. Without interruption. Bunnymund respected the request but was wearily preparing himself for her outbursts.

"It's not a nice story," he said. Toothiana betrayed no intention of intervening. "Jack Frost is a very thin teenager, and he's dumb as rocks. I'm not even insultin' him. He didn't know about Christmas or Easter or _anything_."

Tooth frowned and hesitantly asked, "What do you mean, he doesn't know about anything? How old is he? You said he's physically seventeen, or whatever it was. How old is he, really?"

"No more than two months."

Toothiana had to cover her mouth in a gasp. "What? Two months? That's it?"

Bunnymund nodded gravely. "I told him, I _told_ him that wasn't right. But the lad insisted. He said he was born under the moon, and it chased away darkness, or something along those lines. And then, with his staff, he could control ice."

Toothiana looked troubled. She ran her thin fingers through her feathered hair and shook her head. "No," Tooth said. "No, that doesn't make any sense."

"It's not a nice story," Bunnymund repeated.

"You said he was born under the moon?" she asked, and he confirmed with a nod. "Well, then, maybe the Man in the Moon has something to do with it. Do you...?"

"We'd have to ask him. But I can't right now. I've got to finish this story and leave."

"Go ahead, then," she said, figuring that it would be easy enough to contemplate the details once Bunnymund left.

The rabbit took in a deep breath. "I asked him a couple more questions. It wasn't much. No Christmas, nothing. Then I went back to North. Told him the story." Bunnymund had purposely left out that the Man in the Moon had told Jack his name. He knew it was a lot to take in and he couldn't imagine Tooth's reaction. That might hold them up. Bunnymund forcefully reminded himself to tell Sandy the whole story without omitting anything. The Sandman was old and wise. He would know what to do. To Toothiana, the story would not make a lot of sense, but she had already promised not to pester him.

"North said... well. I asked to see the lists. Jack Frost wasn't on the naughty list like I thought he'd be." Toothiana held back a giggle. "He wasn't on the nice list at first, either."

"You said."

"I thought he wasn't on it. But he was, between two names."

"What names?" Tooth asked, her brain suddenly zipping through the names she knew at a mile a minute. Bunny told her, Jared Padalecki and Jane Old. Tooth gasped. "I know who you're talking about! _Jackson_!" she almost shouted. "Jackson Overland."

"Jackson... Overland?" Bunny repeated.

"Yes! His teeth. His teeth. I have his teeth."

Bunnymund nodded. "Yeah. He's a ghost."

Tooth shook her head once again. "He's dead? Why's he on the list?"

"Because, technically, he's alive. But not really. Because he's a spirit. A winter spirit, at that. Mischievous. I think he'll get into some trouble later on."

Toothiana smiled. "Oh, that doesn't matter much," she said. "As long as no one is hurt."

"I'm gonna make sure no one is hurt," Bunnymund said forcefully. "I'm gonna make _sure_ of it."

She nodded.

"I have to go, Tooth. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she responded, pulling herself into the air with the rapid zip of thin wings. "I'll see you later, Bun."

He frowned at the nickname but bid her farewell, tapping the ground twice and finally disappearing into the warren.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: I cringed while reading this to myself. It's completely non-canon—but, then I figured out a way to make it canon. Tooth didn't know about his memories in the movie, but she **_**does**_** in this. I had to think of another thing to add, which actually gives me a lot more ideas.**

**Updates will be on Fridays or Saturdays from now on. Thanks for reading. **


	15. Ignored in Sanctuary

**A/N: I tried... I really did try to find 1700's churches in the 'States but it was too much research for my biology-ridden mind to do. Have fun with some more time inconsistencies. **

End of chapter 14:

"_It's alright," she responded, pulling herself into the air with the rapid zip of thin wings. "I'll see you later, Bun."_

_He frowned at the nickname but bid her farewell, tapping the ground twice and finally disappearing into the warren._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Jack walked next to them as if he were in the family, asking questions such as "What's Christmas?" and "How have you been?" There was zero response but they did talk for a moment or two about the affairs that Jack was eager to study.

"Who is Jesus?" he asked, tapping the shoulder of the man as delicately as he could. He knew that touching people made them cold, and he also wanted the illusion of meeting resistance rather than the ghostly aura he presented. Walking through people was impossibly aggravating.

Now, Jack could not read or write very well but he knew the general idea of it all. So when he saw the _Church of Jesus Christ_ in big letters denoting a large castle-like building, he decided that it was best to go there. It was as if the building itself had answered his question.

When he rested one foot on the stairs to the church, a strange sensation bubbled through his body like water. It was warm now, much too warm and safe. He needed adventure and chills. But curiosity drove him on.

"Hello?" Jack called out of habit. He slipped through the doors without opening them and discovered many precious things inside. There were rows upon rows of wooden benches. Many seats were occupied by people: old people, young people, men, women, children, babies. There was quiet chatter and Jack ignored everyone to look around.

The first thing he noticed besides the people were the windows. But they weren't really... _windows_. They were pictures. Jack jumped up to fly and see, but fell back with a crash. The sound didn't distract anyone because of their talking. Jack gripped the staff tighter and tried to jump again, but sank alongside his heart._ There was no wind in here_. He could not fly inside a building. Jack had never been inside a building before.

He ran to the corner to see the windows better. They were gorgeous, indescribable. Jack tried to balance himself on top of the staff to see better; he wobbled, but stood taller than his usual impressive six feet. He marveled at the color and design. The picture was of people, gentle people sitting together. They were happy. Jack looked away.

He slid over to the benches and ran his fingers over the rich wood. Smooth, cold, but full of life. Jack grinned and sat down in an empty spot, somehow feeling very warm by doing so. It wasn't an uncomfortable warmth; rather, a deep kindness, like someone was whispering in his ear. He took a deep breath. More people walked into the hall. The seats began filling up and Jack had to leave the pew. He didn't want to, and didn't have to, but a person sitting on top of himself was uncomfortable. The boy decided to explore more.

In the front of the room was a small setup of toys. It looked like something a child would play with. Jack smiled at the little dolls and squinted at the baby in the cradle. They were all painted and beautiful. He didn't understand why they would be here, though. Why wasn't anyone looking at them? They just sat down and spoke amongst themselves.

Jack waited in the corner until seats were occupied and no more arrived. A man dressed in white and red had gone to the front, just beyond the nativity scene. He stood very tall even though his stature was not. Jack scanned the room for an open space. There were few but he managed to squeeze next to a young girl who had put a gap between herself and a stranger. She shivered when Jack took his seat.

As he sat and twiddled long thumbs, he looked around some more. On the wall was—was a giant _T_. He cocked his head at it. The _T_ had a man on it, who was hanging by- what were those?

Jack felt his stomach drop.

_Nails_.

He looked down at his hands and rubbed them together, glad they were free of such torture. Imagining anything even close to being nailed to a cross made him feel sick. He shook his head to get the image out.

The man began to speak.

Jack wasn't sure what was happening, but his heart was beating faster as words flew from the priest's mouth. He spoke of the questions Jack had and fed answers that quenched Jack's thirst of curiosity. He was bouncing in his seat, but the others were still and some had their eyes shut. They were calm. At peace. Jack only stopped moving when the songs began.

The choir sang like the wind. Their voices filled the room and sat in Jack's ears like soft snow. His heart pounded at each note, and though he had no idea what was going on, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. The singing was long and every second of it was more precious than the last. Suddenly the man on the _T_ was not as upsetting to look at. He still felt sick to see, but he smiled, like the man was a friend. He bowed his head.

Jack could feel his soul resting in the dead, invisible body. Their song felt of butter, like mist. By the end of it, there was a deep silence and Jack could feel water trickling down his cheek, unsure why but pleased by the serenity of this.

"That was wonderful," he said, breaking the silence. No one else heard him. The peace melted into whispers and prayers. Jack waited for more, but the priest was not speaking. He frowned. No one was leaving. No one was doing anything, really. Jack had a short attention span and he pursed his lips. He wished the music would start again.

Instead of waiting around to satisfy his curiosity, Jack took his staff and left the church to satisfy his boredom. The singing and preaching had been fun while it lasted, but Jack decided that going back in there would be a difficult feat. He felt crisp when the air hit him. Cold, comforting. Jack jumped up to fly just because he could.

As he flew to burn off newfound energy, Jack hummed the songs sung by the choir. He wasn't sure what the words were, and wasn't even sure if there had been words. But he felt better to hum. Soon enough he was drifting off and fell into a snowy area, curling up next to his staff as if it were a teddy bear. He felt safe. Protected. Nothing bad could happen now. Slowly, Jack closed his eyes and rested his voice.

Time seemed to stop; Jack Frost had no dreams. He fell asleep and could feel the globe spinning, but didn't have any dreams. He never had. He didn't know such a thing could happen. Jack hadn't ever been touched by dream sand, which was why he could not imagine in his sleep. But he was calm, happy, touched by the village's holiday cheer. So the slumber was pleasant. He was smiling all night.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: Dunno if you can tell, but I've never really been to church. Think of this as a slight adaptation or interpretation. Because honestly I have no clue what happens just before Christmas. Or at all, for that matter. Also, what do you think of the art? I did that in a really crappy program and had to turn it sideways to fit on FF.**


	16. Hush

End of chapter 15:

_Time seemed to stop; Jack Frost had no dreams. He fell asleep and could feel the globe spinning, but didn't have any dreams. He never had. He didn't know such a thing could happen. Jack hadn't ever been touched by dream sand, which was why he could not imagine in his sleep. But he was calm, happy, touched by the village's holiday cheer. So the slumber was pleasant. He was smiling all night._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Coal..." Jack mumbled, eyes blinking rapidly. "Coal?"

He blinked again and sat up. The sun was low in the sky; it was only dawn. Blaring yellow and orange painted the snow like canvas. Clouds were still pink. Jack shifted his body to face west. The sunrise was pretty, but blinding.

"Coal," he repeated, yawning and sitting up. "What did they mean, coal? Why would Krissmiss mean coal? And come on... I need to know about that fairy thing. The... Tooth Fairy?"

These questions were daunting. He was still amazed that a child would want to lose teeth. It sounded painful, uncomfortable. He ran his tongue over his own teeth and was glad they were there.

"I'm ready," said Jack, just as the sun slipped fully into view. "Gotta learn _everything_."

He jumped up to begin the day, staff dutifully by his side. Before taking off, Jack had a bit of fun- he brewed up a small blizzard, just to see the snow fall. It went up in clumps and came down as perfect new flakes. Jack caught some on the palm of his hand and stared at the pattern. It was pretty, like a spiderweb. He let his hand drop and the snowflake fell to the ground. It hadn't melted on his hand because of his body temperature.

When Jack arrived in town he didn't expect to see so many people out and about. The sun was visible but Jack supposed it couldn't have been very early at all. He didn't know that winter daylight was seldom, and would eventually grow to _only_ know winter daylight. Spring, summer, and autumn were by far out of his comfort zone.

"Hello," he said to someone, whose response was normal. _Normal_. The spirit laughed. _Nothing_. Jack frowned. He started to follow people around, copying their movements, their gestures, quirks. For nearly an hour Jack played this shadow game and eventually gave up due to lack of response. He vaguely wondered if people would ever see him. Were there people like him? Were there other people who walked around, wondering if they could be seen? Was there someone who wanted _Jack_ to see them?

He smiled at the thought.

"Hello," he repeated. It was becoming routine. "My name is Jack, as you might know. I can't see you, but, y'know, I'm still gonna acknowledge your existence. It's more than anyone's done for me."

The wind did not blow and there was no indication that anyone had heard.

"You see, I was born a little while ago. I... I'm not really sure what's going on right now. But I'm gonna find out."

He looked from left to right, hoping to find any clue...

"I need to learn about Christmas and the Tooth Fairy. Right?"

No one answered.

Jack was silent for a few seconds, but then he laughed lightheartedly. "Sorry that I can't see or hear you," he told the silence. "I know the feeling."

Without thinking long or hard about it, Jack made a new friend. He called the essence _Hush_ and treated it as he would another human. The being didn't make a sound, hadn't even _proven_ itself to Jack, but he believed in it. He sat down and began to speak about all he remembered. The story wasn't long, but he put thought into it. He wanted to impress Hush.

"And I _still_ didn't know my name!" he laughed.

By the time he'd finished talking about his first week of life, the sun was high in the sky, and the afternoon had jumped up.

"Oh, come on, Hush, now I've talked half the day away," he said. "Thanks a lot. Come on, let's find out about all those things. I wish you could talk. You probably have all the answers I need." He laughed again.

And so, for the rest of the day, Jack went on blabbing about this and that, but also looking for clues about Christmas, which was only in a few days. By nightfall he was exhausted.

"I'm sleepy," Jack mumbled, ambling down a path blanketed by snow. He lifted his arms to delight in more flakes, but very soon lost the energy to keep it up. "Winter will have to wait, won't it, Hush?" he yawned. He imagined Hush nodding in response. It was a genderless and beautiful picture.

"You go to sleep where you want. I'll leave some space for you, if you want, but I don't know if it will be big enough or comfortable. Good luck."

He closed his eyes.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Oh, Jack. Jack Jack Jack Jack Jack.

"Thank you," whispered an old woman, hobbling alongside a very energetic boy. He kept claiming not to see or hear her, but that was okay. He _believed_. That was all that mattered. She had been a very sick woman when she died, and the graveness of the disease had followed her into death. It made her stubborn, and not want to die.

That was six days ago.

She'd been wandering around this little village, charmed in part by Christmas preparations but also bitter and angry that the medicine had not worked. By the third day after her death, she'd forgotten where she lived and who her family was. The sour feelings had consumed some memories.

"My name's not Hush," she finally recalled. "Why are you calling me that? Jack? Please tell me. Why are you calling me Hush?"

He only laughed; he hadn't heard her.

"You can't see me," said Hush sadly. "But yet... you still talk to me."

"_I'm still gonna acknowledge your existence. It's more than anyone's done for me."_

Hush smiled. She listened to Jack's lively tale and then watched him fall asleep. He was pretty as an angel, and she suddenly wondered if Jack _was_ an angel. That was a pleasant thought. For the first time since she died, Hush lay down and let her breathing come to a stop. All it took was a little faith, and now the afterlife welcomed her.

Death had soft hands.


	17. Magic

**A/N: We're literally caught up to where I've written. Updates won't be as often anymore, but I won't give up because I have fun writing this, and you have fun reading it.**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Nicholas St. North had a way with magic.

He kept a chest of the stuff locked up for special purposes; mostly, it was used to make snow-globes that aided in his travel from country to country during Christmastime. But this year, he was going the extra mile. He would need time-withstanding magic in order to craft something so important.

North laughed when the Yetis had offered to make it for him. "I vant to see myself how is made!" he chortled.

And so, on a table before him were mounds of thread, blue fabric and scissors, needles, measuring tools and finally, a little bag plump with magic. He used his large hands to delicately handle each object and before long had figured out a way to hold the scissors.

...This would be easy, da?

"'Zere you are..." North mumbled, pinpointing a specific color he'd been searching for in the strands of fabric. The rest of the colors were pushed to the floor, to later be cleaned by a Yeti or elf. He cleared his throat and snipped a piece of the fiber from its spool. Gentle, so as not to bend or break anything, he ran it through the larger pieces of clothing with the precision of an expert.

"Beautiful!" he exclaimed, admiring the half-done piece. "Let us give magic, yes!"

He was so adamant about _waiting_ to give it magic, but the temptation was too much. North untied the string from the bag and emptied a bit of its contents into his hand. It was warm to touch, but not easily identifiable as solid, liquid or gas. No one had even given it a color. It was doughy and pliable, but protective of itself. Magic was able to harden like a rock or melt into a pool, blend in with surroundings or stand out as a unique entity. Was it alive? None could say. Was it useful? More than a little.

He smeared the magic into the fabric and rubbed it in. Nothing appeared to happen but he could feel it being absorbed and having an effect. North smiled to himself and hummed as he cut and sewed the work to completion.

When the hoodie was complete, North wondered for a quick second whether or not it would fit Jack Frost. But he was confident in his assumptions of the boy's size, and anyway, the magic would shape it accordingly. He sprinkled the rest and kneaded it in.

Remembering that Christmas was right around the corner, North laughed and folded the gift to set aside. On Christmas day Jack would receive the invisible garment to keep him safe, to keep him comfortable. For now, Santa Claus had a reputation to uphold. He pushed the hoodie to the far end of his desk and ran out to help his trustworthy Yetis.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: Apologies for the length. This will be the shortest chapter, but the scenes around it had no way to fit in with the theme, etc. The next chapter will probably make up for it.**

**Who's ready for an April Fool's Chapter? Well. I'm certainly not! I won't be in time for the, uh, "_holiday",_ but rest assured there will be an April Fool's Day chapter! Not a joke!**


	18. Two Days

**A/N: Aha, summer vacation… during which I babysit and play video games. Besides that, I guess I'm back. Miss me? :)**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Jack spent four days trying to figure out what the hell Christmas was. When he found out the traditions and the decorations, and the festivities that went along with the holiday, he was excited to experience it. And to think! Only two days away. Jack felt more excited than most of the children in the area.

By now he'd forgotten all about Hush and had started speaking to the wind. It was his only company most of the time, and Jack discovered that the wind had _quite_ the personality. Sometimes it would sweep him off his feet, literally, and throw him a good distance from where he'd been earlier perched. Jack smiled when he thought about it, about all the fun he had and the discovers he'd made.

"Christmas... two days," he said conversationally to a young boy. "That means, tomorrow is Christmas eve. Which is more important, right?"

The child did not respond.

Jack shrugged. "I suppose that's a yes. I don't know what I'm doing yet for Christmas. I really want a present, but..." he laughed. "My parents aren't... well..."

Jack trailed off, the smile disappearing. Why didn't he have parents? Was the Moon his father? Mother? What did being a parent even mean? He groaned at the headache that accompanied these questions. He had to sit down.

The snow was cold to touch. Jack thrived in it. He sunk down into bliss, savoring each snowflake as a source of comfort and protection. In the snow, he felt safe, he felt loved. But even as he thought snow was his only friend, the wind ruffled his hair and sent chills from head to toe. Jack was surrounded by caring entities. He buried himself deeper in the snow.

Someone would have tripped, but they walked through him. Jack winced at the uncomfortable sensation, and then three more people did the same thing. He stood up and ran away before that happened again. Only one more walked by, but he was glad to be spared the discomfort.

He picked up his staff and leaned against it, watching children play games with each other. It was a nice sight to behold. Jack wondered why they would grow up. He looked off to observe an adult, with sharper features and sadder eyes. But the children, the _children_ wore happy smiles as their hair dripped with melted snow. Why would they want to grow up? Was it even a choice?

"Do you want to grow up?" Jack asked, kneeling down next to a short child. "Do you want to become an adult? Where will all of you go? Where will more children come from?"

He'd seen pregnant women, but didn't know what being pregnant meant. For all he could tell the woman simply had a large belly. It didn't seem strange to Jack, or at least, it didn't seem any stranger than everything else about human culture.

"Babies will become children," he murmured, half-answering his own question. "But..." Jack sighed and ceased his questioning. It was only irksome because he never received answers. As if these kids would know, anyway. They were all selfish and untrustworthy. Jack kicked the snow and flew away. He was afraid to leave town because he wanted to stay for Christmas, so he simply flew to a more secluded area where only the snow and wind could bother him.

Several times had Jack wondered whether or not animals could see him. He remembered that the deer were oblivious before, but still, could, for instance, _rabbits_, see him? He wasn't brave enough to test it. He was only a month and a half old, so his fear was understandable. Jack feared a lot of things. He usually let it get the better of him, even in situations that might seem fun.

"Am I afraid of rabbits now?" Jack asked himself. "There's no way... Jack Frost isn't afraid of anything. Why some little bunnies? That's dumb."

He trudged through the snow and found a few bushes laden with ice. There was no way bunnies would be over here, he thought. They were probably huddled up in some cave or a hole in the ground. Jack wondered how little animals stayed warm. Thankfully, that wasn't a problem for Jack. The heat was his weakness, but it was winter, and he wasn't expecting any sort of other conditions because he'd never experienced them.

"Mother," he sang absently, almost like a whisper, a hum. "Where are you..."

Jack scratched his back and felt the white cotton shirt rip. It was not only soaked through, but he'd been flying in it for weeks. The fabric was as thin as his hair, and was now only tattered cloth. He took it off and balled it up. The breeze felt nice on his bare skin. He looked down at his pants and felt them- completely fine, almost new. Nice leather. He decided that it was a good idea to keep them on, but he threw the shirt into the snow. This would be fine until he found another article. No one else ran around semi-naked. Just because people couldn't see him, didn't mean he had to be indecent. Besides, what if Bunnymund came back? How would he explain the absence of not only his vest and cloak, but his shirt too? Jack dully noted that he needed to find something.

The sky was turning orange. Jack yawned and started to head back to town; tomorrow was Christmas eve. Using his own brand of logic, the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner it would come. Maybe he would go back to the church, after all. It was peaceful and warm, in a good way.

Regardless, Jack flew back to the village rather than walking. He felt pretty tired and could not wait to see what tomorrow had in store for him. As this was, he fell asleep before even landing in the snow.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! And hello to the people who subscribed during the hiatus. How you found this buried in other fanfics amazes me, but thank you, ll the same.**


	19. Chapter 19

Jack woke up with a fine layer of snow covering his person. He let it slide off his bare chest and stretched into the morning sun. A yawn like a bear evaporated into the unusually warm air and he picked up his staff, wondering what he ought to do. People were busy now, right? He scratched his head with the staff and looked around at the bland, white excitement he'd had for the day was slowly becoming disappointment.

Jack jumped into the wind and rode it all the way back to town, keeping his eyes straight and concentrated. For some reason he wasn't having any fun. What was this grim feeling? Why didn't he feel festive or Christmassy? Not only was he unhappy, he felt rather sick.

He landed near a snow-covered tree and put a hand to his forehead, frowning. It was warm; a new feeling. The warmth was ugly. Jack's fingers flinched but he kept his hand firmly on the white hair, trying and failing to cool off. The sun stared down at him like an angry villager, like the people who had driven him out of Burgess. Jack fell to the ground and immersed himself with snow, shaking off this burning sensation.

"Christmas Eve," he told himself, staggering to his feet. "It's Christmas Eve. _After_ Christmas Eve, you can be sick. Right now, just watch. Who knows how long a year is. Watch the show. It'll be _fun_. Be sick _later_."

Of course, sheer willpower didn't seem to be enough. Jack, feeling the slight change in temperature that the sun seemed to love, collapsed to the ground again and felt around for his staff. Its familiar shape was comforting, but right now, anything besides _this_ could be comforting. It felt like he was being engulfed by the sun, or boiled alive.

After about ten minutes of melting the snow around him, Jack inched forward for more, and then again ten minutes after that. Finally he found a pile that could last longer. He fell asleep, exhausted.

The sun indicated that it was past noon when he opened his eyes again. Morning was over; he needed to get to town, or he would miss everything...

Jack felt a little better. His patch of snow was almost gone, but a tree hovered nearby with a long shadow and thick trunk. He cautiously stuck a hand out into the sunlight, and felt its buttery warmth. _This isn't so bad_, Jack thought. But he still didn't like it, and wasn't afraid to say so. Still he persevered. With his staff, Jack shot up into the air and laughed, feeling as if the sickness he'd experienced was dripping down to the ground like an icicle.

The wind was deliciously sharp against his ghostly-white skin. It was cold, just the way he liked it, cold_er_ at least. When he landed in town there were a few people talking about what a shame it was, that it was so cold. Jack thought they were crazy, but he still listened.

"I've never liked the cold," one woman was saying. She wore a fading green dress and an apron. Like most of the women Jack observed, she had on a hat. Her expression was grim. "It's much too inconvenient, especially during Christmastime."

"I say, let it snow," an older man responded gruffly. Jack laughed at his dark beard and dirty hands. He liked the variations of human faces. "Shame about the food, but I'm selling just fine. Damn taxes are the problem."

"Yes, the taxes," someone else said.

"It's Christmas," the woman in green changed the subject, looking around wearily. "Let's not ruin all our fun. Where have the children got off to?"

Jack became uninterested in what they had to say, and instead focused his attention toward the children. They were close by, so her excuse for a change of subject was pretty lame. They were playing a game and Jack ran up to see what it was.

"...falling down, London bridge is falling down, my fair lay-dee!"

He smiled at this dull game; the children, no more than eight years old, ran in a long line through the two older kids, giggling the whole way. Jack's ears hurt when they sang out in high-pitched ugly voices, each one singing a different part than the others. He watched them for a few minutes, but a sudden rush of jealousy made him bitterly turn away.

It didn't seem much different than what he was used to watching. Where was the music? Or God? Or Jesus? He wondered if the little girl who'd told him was wrong. It just didn't make any sense.

Jack looked around at the depressing scene of the street. There was dirt on every surface, including skin and clothes and even doors. He began to wish he was still sleeping in the soft snow. Christmas Eve was proving to be uneventful.

For once, Jack didn't feel like having much fun. He looked at his staff and frowned at it, pondering over what could be wrong. Maybe he could make it snow, for that old man who liked it. But then he remembered the woman who disliked it, and he remembered the old woman who drove him out of Burgess, and then he decided that maybe it wouldn't be so fun right now. He wanted to have fun. No- he _wanted_ to _want_ it. But right now, all he could think about was that old woman. And the little girl Anita, the little girl he hurt.

"I'm not evil," he muttered, remembering what they'd said to him. He glanced at the street full of people and scowled at them. They were so kind to him- it wasn't fair. They were _kind_ people. They were people who liked the weather and respected his presence. But did they know he was there? No. Not at all.

Jack realized with a sick twist in his stomach that no one, anywhere, knew or cared that he was alive.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews and thank you for favoriting/ subscribing. **


End file.
